


Message: Read, 11:58pm

by Rachrar



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Jack never died and still rules Hyperion, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not really horrible but just to warn, Vault Hunters just kind of do other stuff, because shhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:11:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6199915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachrar/pseuds/Rachrar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rhys got a message on a dating site he forgot about, he was convinced that it was a spambot. As the conversation went on, Rhys learned that the blank profile hid more than just a face. This "John" was arrogant, rude, but he had such a nice body... It couldn't hurt to get to know the man on the other side of the screen, could it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the absolutely wonderful Hyperion-Issued at Tumblr. This will also be crossposted to my personal Tumblr if you're interested in reading it there for some reason, tumblr name is Rachrar. 
> 
> In this fic, Hyperion is still big and tyrannical, Handsome Jack never died, and still rules Hyperion, and Pandora, with an iron fist. The vault hunters just do... stuff elsewhere or something.

Rhys's cybernetic eye lit up, causing him to pause his typing. He pushed his chair back out from his desk ungracefully, prompting some of his work papers to nearly spill over from their towers before raising his palm to look at the email more naturally. Well, natural for him, anyway. Vaughn still thought it was weird that he could pull up a hologram from his freakin' hand. Cool-- but weird.

It was an email alert for a message from some dating website he had signed up for on a drunken whim… oh... this time, last year? Something like that. He had gotten bored of one-night stands, and, with the encouragement of his best friend, signed up for _the_ most popular dating site in Hyperion—specifically, the one endorsed by Handsome Jack himself. It wasn't surprising, really; the man could put his name on toilet paper and it would sell out faster than the stores could supply. Not that Rhys would buy something stupid like that. Shut up.

He flicked the email open, mild curiosity bubbling as to how somebody found his profile. He didn’t necessarily hide it, but it had been so long since he’d logged on that he assumed his account would have been deleted by now. Clearly not.

_You're cute. Didn't know little twinks managed to work their way into Hyperion. ;) How's your day going? I'm pretty bored-- all my work is done and I have some free time to kill so, y’know, let's get killin, if you know what I mean._

Condescending. Almost. He wasn't sure it was flattery, or an implication that he slept his way up to his position. Honestly, though, if he had, he had chosen one shitty position to get on his knees for. It was basically glorified grunt work, one step away from mass data entry. He shook his head in slight relief. Definitely didn't sleep his way into that.

Noticing the stranger’s profile picture wasn't of a person, just the default blank grey, he was tempted to ignore it. But, hell, he was pretty bored too. Rhys’ curiosity was somewhat piqued; so, as he opened the page, his eyebrows rose in interest when he saw an arrogantly sparse bio.

_Yeeeeaaah. The name is John. I won't complain if you call me “Daddy,” though. ;) Yeah, yeah, I have a life, a job, blah blah blah, you don't care. You just wanna know if I'm hot. And let me tell you, hoooo boy, asking if I'm handsome is like asking if slag burns. Duh._

Right. Prooooobably a spam account. They were getting creative, Rhys had to admit. At this point, he just wanted to know the extent of this bot’s AI. Popping back into the message box, he made a mental note of the little “read” comment below the message. So, the chat system let the user know when a message was read by the recipient. Interesting.

That train of thought was interrupted, however, when an unassuming message bubble popped up in the corner of his chat. Little dots faded through a gradient; a typing indicator. For a spam bot. Rhys wondered who would put that much effort into a troll account, idly considering whether he was more incredulous or impressed at whomever set this up.

He waited for a message, but the dots eventually faded after a few long moments. Slightly disappointing. He typed up a message of his own, smugly sending it off into the ether.

_Nice troll account. I applaud the whole “shitty person using a dating site to get some tail” aspect of it. Almost makes it seem real_   _-_ _Good job! I'd suggest changing the profile picture, though. Nobody’s gonna take your catfishing seriously if it’s still set to the default._

Rhys was anxious sending the message, but he wasn’t “gawky teenager just confessing his crush on Sam Parker in the 9th Grade” anxious. Okay, he was nervous. Whatever. The message indicator shocked him when it popped up nearly instantly. If Rhys wasn't convinced before, he was now. Nobody sent a message expecting a reply immediately, especially from an inactive account. Nevertheless, the words appeared after just a few moments.

_Ouch. You wound me, kiddo. I'll have you know that I’m as real as that cybernetic arm of yours. Trim your claws, kitten, or you’ll hurt yourself. Now, let's talk, hm_?

Rhys' expression fell flat. Garbage. He closed his fingers, snuffing out the hologram display emitted from his cybernetic hand. He had work to do. Or at least, he would find some. Just as he started to settle back into the rhythm of the workday, another message appeared. He rolled his eyes, but gave into the temptation to open it anyway.

_What the hell, Rhys? Don’t ignore me! Pretty rude for someone who says he’s just “looking for some fun” on his profile._

Rhys frowned. This bot was well programmed.

_I see you’re not answering. That's cool. Except it's, you know, not. It's actually really boring. You want a picture or something to prove I'm human, princess? How's this-- Pick a word for me to write out on a piece of paper, and I’ll send a pic back to you of me holding it._

Okay, _now_ they were getting somewhere. So... why not? Rhys chose not to use his palm display again; typing on that looked a little weird when he was sitting two feet in front of an echoscreen for work. It would just be even more obvious that he wasn't actually working. Instead, he used the neural uplink in his eye to type his response. The only issue was that punctuation was a little more difficult when typing like this, so he usually let it slip while using the eye.

_alright why don't you write “im an arrogant ass”_

Snorting at his own comment, he waited a few moments. He began to feel silly after another drawn-out second, turning his attention back to his work. He didn’t receive an alert for the rest of the workday, which was somewhat disappointing. Sure, he didn’t expect a response, especially since he was still fairly certain he wasn’t talking to a real person, but still. It was an unusual thing, and it broke the monotony of work.

Refreshed from said new and interesting thing, Rhys threw himself into his work for the rest of the day. Time passed more quickly than he realized, already nearing 6 o’clock by the time he checked the clock again after what only felt like mere seconds. He had also hardly noticed when his coworkers were leaving the office one by one. Well, they _had_ been leaving. He was damn near the last person left in the coding wing, aside from the few fanatical coders who never seemed to leave.

Rhys sighed, tiredly closing his eyes and rubbing at them until he could see light stars amidst the blackness. He didn't even realize until he looked at something else that his eyes had been almost throbbing from the bright, invasive light of his screen. The blue wasn’t an unpleasant background, soothing almost, but it began to bore into you after a few hours of staring at it.

It wasn't until he arrived home savoring the feeling of taking off his work clothes, that he really paid attention to his alerts. Still nothing. His fingers drummed steadily over his knee, eyes narrowing like he could will an alert to appear. It, of course, did not.

Vaughn leaned his head against Rhys’ shoulder, looking up at him through a pair of glasses specially enhanced for accounting. “Hey, bro, what's on your mind? You look like you're about to get shot in cold blood any minute.”

Rhys laughed, shrugging his shoulders to slide Vaughn off of him. Vaughn didn't bother fighting it, merely slipping down and resting his head on Rhys' lap, looking up at him with faux puppy eyes. “You absolute monster. I just wanted to talk, and here you are, throwing me off a metaphorical cliff.”

Rhys laughed again, this time feeling more awake, and ran his hands through Vaughn's hair. Rhys knew his smaller friend enjoyed using him as a prop, and he actually found it enjoyable (if not endearing) to be honest. Vaughn hummed softly, his eyes closing. Rhys simply adjusted himself, pulling a folded leg out from underneath Vaughn's head to offer a more comfortable headrest.

“Apology accepted,” Vaughn pronounced seriously, flicking his eyes up to meet Rhys' and smiling. Rhys just tugged Vaughn's hair in retaliation to the serious nature of his friend, who immediately burst into laughter despite the slight pain. “For real, though,” he said, regaining control of his breath, “What's bugging you?”

“Well...” Rhys lingered in Vaughn's hair, lips turning down at the corners. “Ok, so, do you remember that night we got super, super drunk, and you convinced me to make an account on that dating site?” Vaughn nodded. Duh. It was one of the most hilarious nights they’d ever had, from Rhys crying over socks that didn't have their match ( _“They're lonely, Vaughn!”_ ), to some semi-serious musing over relationships. He held the memory close to his heart.

“I got a message… From what I'm pretty sure is a spambot,” he said, hurriedly adding the second thought defensively after seeing Vaughn sit up in surprise. Vaughn wasn’t exactly offended, he didn’t get jealous, but he was definitely interested. Rhys pushed him back down, tangling his fingers in Vaughn’s hair once again before continuing.

“But... it might not be. Like, he offered to write something specific on a piece of paper, take a picture holding it, and send it back to me to prove he’s real.”

Vaughn frowned, staring up at the ceiling. It was spackled recently, but the dust had already begun to slip through to uncomfortably cover his glasses. His nose twitched at the idea of so many motes floating about, just dying to make him sneeze. “Go on.”

“He was kind of weird, and it was sort of a come on? I don't know.” Rhys shrugged, trying to avoid indulging him in any further explanation. It was a gift and a curse, being able to talk about these things with Vaughn-- he had to _really_ think about his actions, and, most of the time, it changed how he viewed his interactions with people.

“So how'd you insult this one?” Vaughn's eyes sparkled with mischief behind his glasses, making Rhys groan. “I know ~~\--~~ you said something asinine and didn't even try to get to know him,” he added with a smirk. “So, what did you say?”

“Well, I may have called him an arrogant ass.”

_“May have?!”_ Vaughn snorted in disbelief so hard his head lifted from Rhys' lap. Rhys vengefully slipped out from under his friend, stifling a laugh when Vaughn went to return his head on Rhys’ lap, but instead fell ungracefully back to the couch. “Okay, point made. You’re an _actual_ dick.” Vaughn’s smile softened his words, despite knowing that Rhys wouldn’t take offense to his, seemingly genuine, annoyed tone anyway.

“So, you insulted someone you know nothing about. Any other smooth moves, or should I go to Yvette for the best way to shmooze someone into doing what I want? Also, you owe me half of what I paid for her lunch today.” Vaughn contemplated returning to his place on his personal pillow’s lap again; though, when he saw Rhys shifting to lean his weight onto his flesh hand, brow furrowing and shoulders tight, he decided against it.

“Look, Rhys, you're gonna be fine. He'll message you again. He probably thought it was really funny, actually.” He poked at Rhys, who deeply exhaled and wilted under Vaughn’s touch. It was kind of sad how defeated Rhys looked just because some random person didn't message him back.

“When was the last message?” Vaughn asked.

Rhys' eyes focused for a moment, popping up the interface on his eye. “Two.” He stared at it for a few moments, willing a timestamp to appear.

As if to spite him, a reply appeared right after he finished speaking. His eyes widened slightly in shock. Wow. Good timing. He then realized he was sent a picture.

The picture featured a toned chest with a serious tan, pale scars crossing all over the mystery man’s body. As Rhys scrolled down the image further (it was rather large), his face grew hot; a blush slowly worked its way up from his neck to his ears. He was glad he hadn't opened the message on his palm display, keeping it in his vision only.

“Hey, hey! What’s going on? I can't see anything,” Vaughn whined. “You got a reply, didn't you? …Why are you so red?”

Rhys sputtered a few words before managing to croak out, “He's-- he answered. With a nude.” Well, he wasn’t entirely nude, and the picture cut his head out, but the stranger’s well-defined muscles didn't complete the photo. Nope, the hard dick did.

It wasn't particularly large. If he was being entirely honest, Rhys thought it was a little smaller than average, but only a cock connoisseur would really notice. Oh, God. Did he just call himself that? He internally cringed at his internal monologue’s choice of words.

Rhys was nothing if not attached to dicks (at least, a little more than vaginas). It was well formed, with just a bit of an upward curve, a Jacob's ladder of piercings neatly lined on the bottom of his shaft. The man was circumcised; otherwise, it would be really uncomfortable having piercings there. Rhys shifted, feeling slightly awkward-- he wasn't cut, and the view of a dick that _was_ always surprised him.

“What.” Vaughn looked shocked, his eyes so wide that his pupils constricted. Meanwhile, his eyebrows shot up. “He gave you a dick pic? Do you even know this guy’s name?!”

“John,” Rhys muttered, tearing his view away from the cock in front of him. There was even a bead of precum at the tip, taunting him. Forget Rhys, this guy was an _actual_ dick. There was a paper held in the man's fingers near the edge of the frame. Only the knuckles of his fingers were visible, but there, in undeniably sharp, harsh handwriting-- _i'm an arrogant ass._ There was more in the message written beneath the photo.

_Also, work on your grammar when you’re using different crap to type. You’re testing my patience, kiddo._

Rhys' breath hitched in his throat, face flushing just enough to give away his embarrassment at the mild scolding; or, was it because he thought that dick attached to the message looked damn good? He looked again hesitantly. Yep. Definitely the dick.

“Hello?” Vaughn waved a hand in front of his friend’s face, watching as Rhys blinked a few times in quick succession as he came out of his trance. “Rhys, snap out of it and explain what just happened.”

“He-- uh-- he sent a dick pic saying what I told him to say.” Rhys closed the box before turning to Vaughn, as if it would hide the lewd photo. Although, there was no way Vaughn could see it anyway, unless Rhys wanted to hold up a magnifying glass to his eye and show the projection that way from his eye’s plastic membrane.

“Well, was it a nice one, at least?” Vaughn asked, pragmatic as always. His grin widened at the audacity of his own question.

“It-- it was—it was fine!” Rhys' voice raised an octave on the last word and he winced, eyes closed and lips pursing. Well, there went his whole “playing it cool” thing.

Vaughn eyed him disbelievingly and fell back onto the couch, using his hands for air quotes. “If that's how you react to it being 'fine,' I can't wait ‘til you get a _really fine_ one.”

Rhys shoved a pillow in Vaughn's face and lurched to his feet. “I'm going to bed.” Embarrassed, he pouted and drew himself up straight.

“Ooooh, gonna go get off--” Vaughn began before being assaulted with another pillow, gradually dissolving into laughter while Rhys stormed off to his room. As soon as the door slammed shut behind Rhys, Vaughn reveled in his best friend’s misery at a situation only he could get himself into. “Totally worth it.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, this was so fun to write! I can't believe it got such a positive response. Super glad to hear it though. As always, Hyperion-Issued at Tumblr is my amazing beta (hell yea I'm gonna thank her literally every chapter).

Rhys stared at the image in his ECHO eye… And stared a little longer. It took him nearly an hour to regain his composure and articulate a response to the picture he was sent, all the while sporting an embarrassing half-chub. So.. This "John" has a nice body, and he knows it. So, what? Rhys wasn't exactly hard on the eyes himself. Or... You know. That's what people said. _No, not just his mother, thank you, Vaughn._ He let his eyelids cover his vision for a moment, taking a deep breath, and reopened the message on his palm.

He considered saving the image for later, but still wasn't sure if some kind of alert would give him away. That's not a conversation anyone wants to have. _"Hey, sorry I saved your dick pic. Just wanted to save it for later in a totally normal, not-creepy-at-all way."_ Rhys reluctantly scrolled to the bottom of the chat, summoning his keyboard.

_That's... Well, it wasn't what I expected. But, yeah, you convinced me. You're, fortunately, not a bot._

Rhys paused, not really sure what else to say. He couldn't just ignore this guy again, especially not after he kept his word.. And delivered something extra.

_Glad we're on the same page, pumpkin._

There was a brief pause, and the three dots reappeared.

 _Seeing as I was so generous I think it's high time you returned the favor. You show me yours, I show you mine, huh, kiddo_?

Fuck. Rhys lay down on his bed, searching his Hyperion-issued pillow for answers. All he found was the unmistakable desire to drift into sleep. But, you know, don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Or something. Rhys typed out another message.

_There are some on my profile._

Not many, granted, and some of them were getting old. But it's not like his page was empty, _unlike someone's_.

_Nooo, no no no. You know what I want. Just send over the good stuff, and things will be better for the both of us! Guaranteed._

Rhys felt a flush creep across his features again. He couldn't help it-- He was losing control to this -potentially- very attractive man, and, well... was there really any reason not to give in to him?

He hesitated, glancing down to get a better look at himself; striped pajamas, and tousled hair. Sexy. So... No. He wasn't sending any pictures tonight. Considering his options for another minute, Rhys remembered that he was looking for a relationship now; not a one-night stand like his old profile bio suggested. As tempting as it was, he didn't want to set a bad precedent for his future self.

_Sorry. I'm not looking for a quickie. But hey, it's getting late, and I have work in the morning. Data mining,_ _**super** _ _fun. I'll talk to you later._

Silence met his reply. Rhys couldn't decide if he was more relieved or annoyed when the typing indicator returned again, words following shortly after.

_Wow. Boooooring. Fine. I expect to hear from you tomorrow, Rhysie. I'm expecting a slow day and I need something fun to happen or I'll end up shooting someone in the face._

_Sure._ Rhys typed. _But I can't promise anything. I have a lot of work piling up._

_We'll see. Get to bed, princess. I want you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed come morning. Peace. ;)_

Rhys couldn't help but smile. The guy was bossy, that's for sure, but endearing. Plus, those cute pet names sent a warm feeling spreading throughout his lower half. …Or was that because of the dick pic again? He closed his palm display, its blue glow fading until he was left in darkness. Hopefully, things would go over more smoothly tomorrow.

At exactly 8:00 A.M. the next day, midway through brushing his teeth Rhys froze in place, his whole body turning decidedly cold as he remembered something.

_Also, work on your grammar_ _**when you're using different crap to type** _ _._

  
  


\--**--

  
  


_**Earlier that morning** _

Jack was stretched out spread-eagled, barely reaching the sides of his massive mattress. It was plush, silky, and comfortably warm. He could thank the heating unit he had built-in for that. Well, if he had anyone to thank. It was his idea. Just like everything else on Helios. Jack unwillingly left his super-badass bed; he still had a full day ahead. Sometimes, being King was a drag... HA. That reminded him, he could already go for coffee and a cigarette.

He rolled over and checked the time: 4:06 A.M. His internal clock was still chugging along, accurate as always. He grimaced, forcing himself up with a groan. Stumbling slightly, he yawned and headed to his luxurious bathroom for a hot shower. His eyes slowly closed while he enjoyed the feeling of heat rolling over his body, down his shoulders and back. The darkness of the early morning was almost comforting to him now; a familiar friend.

Throwing a towel around his waist, he stepped out and rubbed his eyes before fully waking. Handsome Jack's nose wrinkled when he caught sight of the maskless face staring back at him. He fought the urge to bash in this mirror like the others; he had bulletproof glass installed for a reason.

Though, it was still uncomfortable seeing himself this way. He shifted his attention away from his reflection, grabbing his hairdryer. _What, did you idiots think this hair styled itself? Flattering, but hair this handsome doesn't stay perfect by letting it air-dry. Little piece of advice there, free of charge!_ He may not like his maskless face, but his hair was his pride.

Well, that is, after Hyperion. He _made_ this company. After ex-President Tassiter's untimely death, Jack made Hyperion's board of directors his bitch. God, that day was so goddamned good. He practically got a stiffy just thinking about watching the life finally leave his ex-boss' eyes after the man realized his fate was sealed in Jack's vice-like grip; it was impossible to hold in laughter, and he didn't want to, thinking of how Tassiter pathetically clawed scars into his roughened hands while they tightened around his neck.

Jack dressed himself in his usual layers. He slipped on his well-worn sneakers over his feet; always the final touch. He stretched out and straightened his back, yawning once more before hearing his joints crack in relief. Maybe today wouldn't be a complete shitshow.

Upon walking out of his penthouse suite with a spring in his step, peons and corporates alike flew to the walls when his overpowering presence filled the hallways. A young man tried to slip by unnoticed, likely not realizing that the President of Hyperion was pressing forward from beyond his tower of paperwork. Jack casually stuck out his foot in front of the little douche-knocker.

The intern tripped and barely caught himself on his hands, sending papers flying everywhere. The previously well-organized paperwork was now airborne, causing employees to gasp and turn statuesque as documents filled the air like snowflakes. Trying to understand the unforgiving nature of his boss, he sat on the ground gaping at the sheer amount of lost work. The young man let out a quiet sob; he was going to be fired, and nobody would care.

Jack stood clutching his sides, laughing uproariously. " _Ohhh_ , my god! This is the best thing I've seen all week. Gotta pay attention, kiddo. I needed that. Thanks a bunch." The intern just stared after him as Jack winked, shot his finger guns and continued walking on as if nothing happened. He sat sniffling back a few tears, gathering his papers and thanking whatever higher power spared his life- though, on Helios, that higher power was Jack himself. Coming back to his senses, the stunned intern realized how lucky he was to still be alive; he could have been shot… or strangled.

Jack entered his office at precisely 5:30 A.M., spinning his chair around before settling in it heavily. His fingers intertwined and stretched out in front of him, releasing a chorus of pops and cracks. He reached out for his coffee… Where was his coffee.

He opened and closed his hand a few times around the missing mug in irritation. _What did he pay these idiots for?_ He narrowed his eyes, stabbing a thick finger at his intercom. "Meg!"

"Yes, Mr. Handsome Jack, sir?" He suppressed the urge to growl at her cheery tone. How the _fuck_ did she get here before him, and _why_ was she so goddamned happy- _clearly without having been able to drink any coffee this morning._ Whatever, he didn't care. That's what he paid her for.

"Where the fuck is my coffee?"

He heard her fingers clacking over the keyboard before the intercom went silent. "I don't know, sir. Shall I send out somebody out to find your PA, or would you like me to prepare the airlock?"

He nearly snapped at her for assuming what he wanted, but she _did_ always know what he wanted. Fucking Meg and her... competence. She made herself difficult to hate, and made it equally difficult to find a reason to airlock her throughout the last year.

"Find him. What was his name-- Andy- Allen--?" He trailed off. Nope, didn't know. Still didn't care. "Bring him to the cafeteria on floor seven."

She didn't miss a beat. "Dead or alive, sir?"

"Alive. And restrained. Just find me a new one to interview." There had to be hundreds of idiots looking for their chance to move higher in the ranks, waiting for some other halfwit to kick the bucket.

"Yes, sir. I'll let you know when we have him in custody, sir."

"Right, right. Fuck off until then."

"Yes, sir." She terminated the call and returned to her task at hand, unruffled.

Jack rubbed at his face, grumbling nonsense under his breath. It wasn't even 6 A.M., and the day was already going to shit. He stood up and walked over to the inconspicuous desk tucked neatly into the corner of his office for his personal assistant. It was just large enough for some papers and an ECHOscreen.

Jack harrumphed, pushing papers aside and turning on the ECHO device. He lazily started looking for any incriminating files to blame for the kid's impending death. Sabotage in collaboration with another company to get corporate secrets, or whatever else some piss-for-brains jackhole could think he was dumb enough to entrust to a PA.

 

After a while, he decided that, no, there weren't. If there had been, he'd be not only pissed, but also have to clean up after the kid's mess. He was at least relieved to know that he didn't hire someone stupid enough to leave that kind of thing lying around on his work computer.

  
  


\--**--

  
  


_**The same morning, nearly two hours later: 7:30 A.M.** _

Vaughn grabbed Rhys by the shoulders, shaking him intently. "Rhys! Wake up!"

Rhys flailed, blankets catching on his empty arm port, pinning him to the mattress as he tried to sit up. "I swear to God, Vaughn, if it's 3 in the morning and you're pulling a prank on me again, I will beat you with my cybernetic arm."

He freed himself, shoving the blankets back onto the bed and huffing as he stood. When he turned to face Vaughn, though, he dropped his irritation in favor of worry upon seeing his friend's face. "What's going on?"

"There was an announcement from Handsome Jack." Rhys blinked.

"And? There are announcements every--"

"He called a mandatory meeting for everyone who applied to be his personal assistant. Literally everyone." Vaughn stared at Rhys incredulously. "And you applied, didn't you?"

"I-- well-- it's a good opport--"

Vaughn cut him off, _again_ , with a dismissing wave of his hands. Vaughn wasn't the type to cut him off, especially not twice in a row. Rhys felt his heart stutter. Rather than speaking again, he turned to his arm dock, fiddling with it for a bit as he leaned against it. It clicked into place after a few rotations while Vaughn finished speaking.

"The mass interview starts once his old PA is fired." Vaughn said, somewhat sympathetically.

Rhys glanced over at Vaughn, still grumpy, and rolled his eyes. He started going through the clothing pushed into a massive pile by his bed. It was aggravating going through it while it was pushed to the-- was this shirt even clean? He sniffed at it… Okay. Definitely not clean. "You say that like it's rare."

"A mass interview?" Vaughn asked. Rhys noticed he was dressed already. What time was it? He pulled up his palm's screen. It was only 7:30 A.M. That was a little early for a PA to get booted- this one didn't even make it a month. Rhys wondered what kind of offense was bad enough to get fired this early in the day… or maybe Jack just hadn't had his coffee yet.

"No, not that. His PA getting fired, and… Probably airlocked." Vaughn just looked at Rhys. Rhys, for the most part, was calm. Someone dying every day was normal at Hyperion. Killing was more common, but death was always a part of the risk. It wasn't like Vaughn hadn't taken any risks; his glasses were proof of his shady accounting skills.

"Aren't you worried? He's not going to be in a good mood. He's _probably_ going to kill several people before the interview even starts. It could be you, you know. _"_ Rhys contemplated the risk as he shimmied into a pair of pants.

So, Rhys could die. "Or... Hear me out. Or, I could be his new PA." He raised his eyebrows like it was the most brilliant plan he'd ever orchestrated.

"Rhys!" Vaughn exclaimed, palms turned outward to compensate a lack of words to express his disbelief. Rhys simply shrugged, not sure what to say to calm his worried friend.

"I'll keep in contact. When's the meeting?" He began knotting his tie, staring angrily at it like it was a Rubik's cube while he fumbled with it. Afraid? No. But excited? _Oh, yes._ This was way better than getting nudes, _albeit very nice nudes_ , from handsome nobodies. This was a game changer, his way to the top; the opportunity of a lifetime. There's no way he was missing this.

Vaughn sighed, deflating. He wasn't going to get through to Rhys now. Rhys had stars in his eyes, no doubt imagining the chance to meet his conquering hero. It wasn't surprising, but Vaughn had at least hoped to impress on him the seriousness of the announcement, not get him excited enough to overlook the possibility of walking into a deathtrap. "Calm down, Rhys, any more pleased with yourself and you'll tent your pants. The meeting is at 9 A.M. in the seventh floor cafeteria."

Rhys just pouted at him dejectedly. Frustrated, he let go of his ridiculous mess of a tie and looked to Vaughn helplessly. Vaughn's lips twitched into a thoughtful half-smile. That was more like the Rhys he knew; nervous, and head over heels for a mass murderer. As Vaughn worked on his tie, Rhys checked himself in the mirror and perfected his hair- it was his best feature, after all.

"There." Vaughn stepped back, observing his handiwork. Rhys tucked his thin, red tie into his waistband. "Just... be careful, alright?"

Rhys put his hand on Vaughn's shoulder. "Have faith in me, bro." Smiling, he looked up, eyes radiating triumph. He had this in the bag.

"Always, bro."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: 3/12/16  
> Made the timeline a little clearer. Nothing else was changed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks to Hyperion-Issued for being my beta! Thank you, too, to the people commenting and reading, you really keep my motivation up!

**_8:01 A.M._ **

Rhys spit his toothpaste into the sink, letting his toothbrush drop to the floor. He collapsed onto his hands, gripping the porcelain until his knuckles turned a translucent white. _“When you’re using different crap to type”?_ Sure, Rhys knew his grammar had gotten a little sloppy, but _how_ did the man—

Rhys turned to face himself in the mirror, realization washing over him.

_Do I have a stalker?_

Trying the best he could to keep his composure, Rhys cleaned off his toothbrush and rinsed out his mouth. He then looked up to see a frighteningly pale reflection in the mirror; his heterochromatic eyes, differing in color due to his ECHOeye implant, were filled with anguish. Raising his right arm, Rhys’ cybernetics whirred softly to life as the gears quietly began to spin  and electricity thrummed. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. _Okay._ There’s no way this could be as bad as it seemed.

Maybe John had seen his implants in one of his pictures, and just so happened to know about the switching function between an ECHO eye and a cybernetic arm to access the ECHOnet. That was it. Otherwise...

No. He’s _not_ going down that road. John saw a picture of Rhys with his implants. _That’s all_. He didn’t typically like to post pictures with his cybernetic arm anywhere that could make him easily recognizable to strangers, but still, there had to be at least one he forgot about. Unfortunately, Rhys didn’t have time confirm his suspicions.

Although still feeling unnerved, Rhys refused to lose control. There was still a meeting to go to, _the opportunity of a lifetime_ , and Rhys would be damned if he was late for his destiny. He couldn’t miss the chance to at least _talk_ to Handsome Jack, possibly even demonstrate his potential value as personal assistant to the CEO.

As PA, he would see Jack every day; talk to him, _work with him_. His lifelong hero would acknowledge his hard work—would _see_ him. Rhys could picture himself becoming as much of a friend to Jack as anyone _could_ if he played his cards right. Jack was his lucky ticket to climbing the ladder of success.

Rhys swished around his mint mouthwash, leaving his breath refreshingly cold. _This is fine._ He gave himself a once over in the mirror, deciding that he was as ready as he’d ever be to meet the CEO of a megacorporation……. Shit.

“ _Vaughn!_ I'm heading out!” Rhys shouted as he headed for the door, “Let Henderson know I'm going to that meeting Jack called, _please,_ bro?”

“Yeah, yeah. Get going, you don't want to be la-” Vaughn was abruptly cut off—

“K THANKS BYE”

 _“Rude.”_ Vaughn watched as his friend practically tripped over himself out of their shared apartment.

_Like I'd chance being late for Handsome Jack._

Once he was out the door, Rhys tugged his vest on, situating it just right.

 

\--**--

 

The corridors on the seventh floor were filled with people rushing to and fro, no one truly having a particular destination- just the overwhelming urge to _do something_. Not many people there had applied for the job, yet everyone around him seemed full of energy. _Voyeurs, probably,_ Rhys thought to himself. They’d be hoping to see if anything more than expected –or _could_ be expected from a man like Handsome Jack- might happen.

Rhys was so lost in his own thoughts that before he realized, he was standing in the doorway to the cafeteria. He wasn't the first to arrive, but certainly not the last. He checked the time in his eye. Just past 8 A.M. Jack would arrive in only an hour.

The cafeteria to this floor was huge, even for Helios’ usual style. Tables were pushed together to create an arena, with rows of the arranged semi-circles facing a raised platform in the back of the room. Rhys sat square in the middle of the front row, legs crossing self-consciously. _Is this a_ little _too bold?_ The front row was empty, aside from himself; he definitely looked like a try-hard to anyone walking past. Uncrossing his legs, he leaned forward and began to rise.

The doors abruptly swung open, terrifying the early interviewees inside. Rhys jumped so high that an audible _clack!_ sounded once his boots hit the ground. _Damn these overpriced shoes..._ He didn’t pay two month’s salary for them to _embarrass him._ Rhys searched for anything to look at other than people’s likely incredulous stares.

Luckily, no one was even paying attention to him. Still stunned, everyone was watching several Hyperion guards march in with a young man apprehended between them. The man’s face was bleeding, and he was being held upright by the guards' unmerciful grip. Rhys' ECHOeye scanned the poor man before he could stop it.

_Name: Adrien Nolan_

_Age: 28_

_Skags to Riches Username: BanditHunter999_

_Job Title: Handsome Jack's PA (former)_

_Status: Broken nose, two broken ribs_

Rhys shrank away sympathetically as Adrien was discarded onto the platform. He landed with a loud _thud_ on his knees, head ruefully drooping forward. The only noise in the room became the almost metronomic sound of blood dripping from Adrien's nose onto the platform.

He could hear soft wheezing coming from Adrien’s general direction. The ex-PA wasn't handcuffed or tied up, but he didn't show even the semblance of an attempt to struggle. All there was left to do was wish for a –somewhat– quick death at this point. Painless? He wouldn’t dare hope.

The guards stood on either side of the condemned man, assault rifles aimed with precision toward his head. The guards on Helios held the same intense gaze of a militia, eyes well-trained and locked ahead. Four guards surrounded the young man: One behind, one on each side, and two in front of the doors. An unsettling feeling made Rhys restless upon seeing the last two. A young woman, who Rhys impassively assumed was there for the interviews, timidly walked to the front door. The guards moved swiftly, positioning their rifles to block her path.

“Ah-ah. No one leaves,” one of the guards said.

The woman took a step back, glancing around the room for support. Everyone in the cafeteria suddenly found the floor very fascinating. She turned to face the guards once more, subtly adjusting her posture and outfit to emphasize her cleavage. “I just need to use the restroom, boys.” She stepped forward with a flirtatious grin.

The guards moved as one, rifle butts shooting through the air quickly to slam into her stomach. There was enough force to knock the wind out of her, causing her to double-over in pain and fall to her knees. The guards didn't even flinch, returning to their previous stances. She wasn't _badly_ wounded, only bruised and a little scared, but it was enough for the room to hush into a sea of perturbed gasps and whispers.

She stood after a few moments with her breathing audibly strained, and returned to her seat without a word. _…Guess she’ll have to hold it._ Rhys no longer had any desire to change seats; he wasn’t quite committed to the idea of being forcefully shoved back into his seat. He just earned himself a front-row seat to... Whatever Jack had planned for them.

Time seemed to movein slow motion as more applicants gradually filled the cafeteria and took their seats around the make-shift stage. By 9 o'clock, the room held just over one hundred people; each of them crammed inside and taking every available seat until people started lining the walls. A variety of people showed up- everyone from terrified interns to overconfident secretaries. There was even a Hyperion guard in the mix, sitting stiffly, just one row behind Rhys, and unsure of how to act while her helmet was taken off.

Rhys could hear the nervous tittering emerge among the crowd when 9:00 A.M. came and went with Jack nowhere to be found.

It wasn't until 9:45 A.M. that the man of the hour appeared, cutting through guards like they were tissue paper. He knocked away anyone dense enough not to move out of his pathway to the stage. Jack declined a microphone, scoffing, and said, “If anyone’s stupid enough to talk over me, shoot ‘em.”

Silence. Rhys wondered if a single person in the room was still breathing, or if they had silently agreed to collectively hold their breaths. The room was frozen in time, all except for Handsome Jack, whose intense presence kept Rhys rooted to the floor. His eyes widened; Jack was right there— right in front of him, and if Rhys just… stood up high enough, he could lean forward to touch the extraordinary CEO. It was terrifying— _nay,_ amazing—to be so close to his idol.

Rhys sucked in a breath, waiting for his chance to shine.

 

\--**--

 

Jack stood at the front of the room, hands on his hips; it was a habit to pose like this, a stance now inseparable from his image. He felt pleased with the dead silence lying thickly over the room, a sea of his worker ants waiting anxiously before him. It was his usual style to hold eye contact with each person who matched his gaze until he came out on top. No one could resist the urge to drop their eyes in fear and intimidation while he scanned the room. That is, everyone except Rhys.

Oh, he knows Rhys. He’s known about him for a while, incidentally. Jack had been watching him since before he’d even put forward his name to test the company’s new cybernetic enhancements. He was a rising star among wannabes, following through with his aspirations from the start. The kid actually made himself surprisingly useful, not in data mining; oh, no. The real talent showed through with his lucrative mining deal down on Pandora. Eridium—High-value shit. And, to Jack's absolute delight, the deal had been incredibly shady; multiple unexplained murders, a few forged signatures, the threat of blackmail to a pathetic, grotesque little town that Jack wouldn’t take the time to piss on and situated just above the mining site. _Hah!_ Until the camp _conveniently_ turned into an abandoned ghost town, that is.

Jack could tell that Rhys was a sharp kid—Hell, he might actually be the sharpest tool in the figurative shed that is Helios—though still miles away from himself, of course. Jack kept an eye on him not only for his skills, but to make sure the ambitious little shit didn't have the opportunity to even _try_ taking Jack's place on the throne; he’d have to kill him for that. Rhys had the ambition, and better, he was seemingly competent. Jack made sure to instruct Henderson to give Rhys biannual bonuses and subtle hints of a promotion if he stayed in his lane. Having the kid scared shitless barely two feet away from him was just the _cherry_ on top of his week.

 

\--**--

 

Rhys emanated confidence as he met Jack's eyes.

…Okay. Maybe not.

His pupils were blown wide, and Jack must have wondered if he was on something. Thankfully, Rhys' determined, if not more-simultaneously-terrified-and-excited--in-his-life, expression would belie that idea.

Adrien made a pitiful moaning noise, catching everyone's attention; most notably, Jack's. Jack carelessly stomped at the man's chest, watching him shout and fall back in pain. Many of the interviewees looked sick; not many people were witness to Jack’s violence and lived to talk about it. Rhys looked uncomfortable, but kept his eyes trained on Jack.

 

\--**--

 

Jack noticed that Rhys didn’t look away while he admonished his shit-for-brains PA. He liked that.

Over the last few weeks, there was some talk of Rhys moving up the corporate ladder again; rumors of blackmail emerging from the coding department, and people getting “caught” with hoards of drugs stashed away that they had no recollection of acquiring. Rhys carved a path upward, not seeming to care if someone who deserved it fell before him. Jack knew that his little, four-eyed friend was complicit in every plan Rhys made, rerouting money to bribe Pandorans who just so-happened to be nearby when workers at the mines went missing. Jack wasn’t necessarily angry at the embezzling, he was amused. To be honest, he just wanted to see how far Rhys would go for _an opportunity._

Jack hastily pulled his pistol from its holster, nonchalantly twirling it around his finger. He stopped it, holding the barrel loosely. “You morons want this jerkoff’s job?”

Rhys' eyes gleamed with desire, a few of the others attendees perking up fervently. “I can't have people like _this_ ,” Jack nudged the abused PA with his foot, “idiot working that close to me. I mean, I’m _Handsome Jack_. I deserve better than that, don’t cha think?” He began flourishing his pistol as he continued the speech. “And we can't have that, now _… Can we?”_ Jack’s voice dropped low, practically growling out the last words. He slapped on a charismatic smile that didn't quite meet his vindictive eyes, allowing a sinister chuckle to reverberate in the air around him.

“First one to make the kill gets the job.”

 

\--**--

 

Nothing happened for a few long seconds while the arena of more than one hundred people processed his words. The soldier in the second row vaulted over Rhys without a moment’s hesitation before anyone else could react, firing her pistol and shooting Adrien in the head with uncanny accuracy.

Adrien’s body teetered, falling to the floor with a _thud._ Brains and blood splattered against Jack's dark jeans, and some sprayed on an unprepared Rhys. Rhys swallowed, feeling his stomach lurch and heave at the gory sight in front of him. He still wouldn’t look away. Adrien no longer had a complete head, just an oozing stump with half of his face missing. The blood spread quickly, and Rhys wrinkled his nose at the metallic smell. He discreetly shifted his legs to rest the tip of his boots on the floor delicately; there was no way he was getting blood and _whatever else_ on his skag leather shoes.

Handsome Jack's expression was perfectly neutral, considering the proud soldier. She stood with her chest puffed out, expecting a commendation; a reward.

Jack only tutted softly. The soldier hesitated, confused. “Sweetheart. You don't take orders well, do you?” With an altogether _too easy_ flip, his gun was comfortably sitting in his palm again. He sardonically bashed her face in with the butt of his pistol, causing her to drop harder than a rock. “See, when I _tell you to do something_ ,” he said, regarding the room again, “I expect you to think, for once in your goddamned lives, about what I’m asking you to do—and _do it_. But, then again, you're you, I'm me. I have to have the brains _and_ the looks around here, because _you_ idiots don’t seem to have either!”

Jack squatted down, a malicious smirk twisting his features, grabbing her by the hair and hauling her up. He wiggled the gun in front of her face. “See this? I was holding it out for you to use it to kill him,” he said, speaking as if he were reprimanding a child. “And, _now!_ Now… You’ve ruined everyone else here's chance to impress me.” A mocking tone saturated his voice while he laughed, his the excitement growing as if in anticipation for the impeding punch line.

The woman's eyes grew wide as she realized her reward to come, immediately struggling to free her head from his grip, and _run_. It was a wasted effort; she had to know deep down that her life was over, yet she still fought desperately against him. It goes to show, people will up and go mad when they believe their life is over.

Jack shook his head, tapping hers with the barrel of his gun; like you would get a dog's attention. Mock pity filled his voice, _“Such a shame.”_

“ **People —** _smack_ — **only —** _crunch_ **—** **die —** _squelch_ **—** **_ONCE_**.”

…  


 

\--**--

 

The air in the room turned to glass, no one daring to move.

The woman’s brains and blood mixed with the old PA's. He dropped the hunk of scalp to the floor, causing a wet _splortch_ to resonate within the ears of anyone close enough to listen. “Alright, game's over. Go home.”

Rhys stared at the blood-covered CEO. Not in fear; at least, not entirely. No… _admiration_. Despite two people having been murdered directly in front of him, Rhys was slightly more astonished than horrified; he was no stranger to questionable tactics, after all.

“Not you.” He pointed to Rhys, who hadn't budged. “You and I? We’re gonna get real close, kiddo. You start tomorrow at 4:30. Don't be late.”

_Were Jack’s eyes ALWAYS that green and blue? The posters didn’t do him justi-_

Jack snapped his fingers in Rhys' face. “ _Anybody home, dum-dum?_ No, _Thanks Jack, you're my hero!_ Or, _Wow, Jack, take me now!_ ”

Rhys let out his breath in a shaky exhale, “Yes.”

Jack blinked, then chuckled. “Cute. Like I said: 4:30.”

“Yes, sir.” Rhys watched as Jack tucked his hands into his pockets, strolling out of the room like he wasn't covered in the blood of two _seemingly innocent —you never knew around Helios—_ employees. Rhys didn't move from his spot until the guards left. He extended his arm out, a hologram appearing from his palm with video interface open, and called Vaughn.

Vaughn answered after two rings, concern etching his features. “Rhys? Oh god, Rhys, are you…?” He trailed off, turning his head to Rhys’ clothing. “…Blood. You have—blood.. On you...”

“I saw him,” Rhys finally said, breathlessly.

Speaking began to thaw him, and Rhys darted his eyes around, trembling harder. “Handsome Jack. Vaughn, he was-- He was right here!”

Rhys began to laugh, the view of two corpses visible to him from beyond the  transparent blue screen of his call with Vaughn. He then quickly covered his mouth with his flesh hand, curling it into a ball. Vaughn glanced to his side, ensuring that the call was in private, and leaned close. “Rhys. Are you okay? You don't sound like it…”

Rhys' giggles were uncontrollable. His eyes started to shine with tears, his entire body shaking and the ECHO call becoming blurry from his fervid movements. “I just saw Jack kill two people. They were alive and… then they weren't— _Vaughn,_ I’m so _happy._ ”

He bit down on the flesh of his hand to stifle the panic and excitement welling inside him. Sure, he had _indirectly_ caused deaths before, but he’d never been so... _involved_. There was just… so much blood _._ _What will I wear tomorrow? What will he make me do first? Is he going to expect me to show up knowing what to bring before I get there?_ Vaughn looked around, getting up before shifting the call to his glasses, “I'm coming to get you.”

Rhys couldn't answer, half nauseous and half laughing. It felt as though Vaughn arrived by his side just a moment later, helping him stand and carefully angling himself to avoid looking at the bodies as much as possible. “I didn't expect any of this. I didn't-” he fought back tears threatening to make their escape,“I didn’t want them to _die_ , Vaughn.”

“I know, bro. Come on.” Rhys couldn't balance himself steadily enough to walk on his own, and nearly slipped on the pool of blood collecting at his feet. Vaughn caught him, and picked him up bridal style. “Let's go home, and get you out of these. Then you can tell me about the new PA.”

That brought out a fresh bout of manic laughter from Rhys, “ _I'm_ the new PA!”

  
Vaughn stared at his friend in horror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote about the guard fighting for life and such is a reference to The Walking Dead game, helpfully give by Hyperion-Issued. :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks to Hyperion-Issued, the best beta ever.

Vaughn called in sick for the rest of that day. His coworkers hadn’t asked where he was going when he left for the cafeteria earlier, so it wasn’t an unbelievable lie... Rhys had all but collapsed into his side when they got home, and once Vaughn stood from the couch, he began crying anew. Vaughn didn't leave his side again after that. It took hours, but Rhys eventually calmed down, exhausted from the flurry of emotions throughout the day. Several hours had passed before Rhys relaxed his grip on his best friend.

“I'm sorry...” Rhys rubbed his eyes before sitting up. 

Vaughn shook his head at Rhys' words, “Don’t worry about it, bro... I know-- today was a little hectic. We’re cool.”

“Thanks, bro.” Rhys smiled, leaning against Vaughn's shoulder.

“Anytime, bro.” Vaughn simply ran his fingers through Rhys' hair, tracing small circles onto the back of his head. “Although, I do have to pee like you wouldn’t _imagine_ , so if I could get up now...”

Rhys allowed himself a friendly scoff at his friend’s penchant for relevant information before shifting and releasing Vaughn from under his weight. Vaughn rolled his eyes, ruffling Rhys' hair affectionately before heading to the restroom, while Rhys took the opportunity to stand and stretch his aching muscles. Vaughn had stayed by his side for the better part of the day, even after the shock wore down. The newly appointed PA decided that the least he could do was make dinner.

So, Rhys ambled into the kitchen, praying that they had something simple to make. Unsurprisingly, there wasn't much. Neither of them were the type to cook very often, or at all. They typically preferred takeout, but Rhys was determined to make a hot meal from what he could find hidden around the kitchen. Fumbling around the pantry, he scrounged up a box of macaroni and cheese, grabbed the milk from the fridge, and got to work.

Okay, it didn’t end up a total disaster... He’d even found some hot dogs to cut up and add in as small chunks! _This shitty meal is now 25% less shitty._  It was passable, and Rhys aimed no higher than his infamous culinary skills gave him credit. After Vaughn took a moment to school his face into one of curiosity and poked at a piece of hot dog, he wasn't exactly offended.

“Not bad, Rhys!” Vaughn said after bravely taking a bite and, _Oh, thank god_ , not gagging. “It actually tastes like mac and cheese this time!” he gently teased, elbowing Rhys in the side as the _Chef de Cuisine_ sat down.

“How was I supposed to know you couldn't just boil it in the milk? It made sense,” he huffed. “I mean, you add the milk after boiling it, and, it just... I was _simplifying things_ , okay?”

“Well, you made a fine goop indeed, bro,” Vaughn said. He quickly reacted to a piece of hot dog being launched his way, smugly catching it in his mouth. He took a small bow as his surprisedly impressed friend gave him a slow clap.

“Not bad, my friend,” Rhys smiled.

Tension that had built throughout the day seemed to melt away like butter in the presence of his best friend. Things were almost back to normal while they bickered over the remote and, once a winner emerged victorious, what show to watch. Rhys won the first by virtue of his freakishly long legs alone after holding the remote higher, leaving Vaughn miles below and threatening to take him down a few inches at the kneecaps. It’s not like Vaughn didn’t have his dirty tactics-- _Oh, I’m sorry, Vaughn-- Explain to me again how tickling somehow_ isn’t _cheating?_ They kicked back and watched some made-for-TV movie before Rhys yawned, leaning back on their well-worn couch.

“Ugh.. I should probably go to bed early tonight, Vaughn.. Jack wants me in at 4:30 A.M.,” Rhys said while rubbing his face, unsuccessfully attempting to stifle another yawn.

“That would be the smart thing to do,” Vaughn agreed. “If you want to hit your full 8 hours, you're gonna have to be in bed...” his eyes flicked to the overlay on his glasses, “...exactly one hour ago.”

Rhys groaned, standing nonetheless. “I'm pretty beat anyway. Sorry for getting your shirt all…” Rhys patted over his chest, where Vaughn’s shirt was still somewhat stained from earlier.

Vaughn just shrugged in reply. “It happens. I'm just glad you were safe and crying on my shoulder instead of in the cafeteria... Aaand that I didn't have to argue with Yvette over who’s paying for your funeral... Again,” he said with a friendly smile.

Rhys flipped him off and headed to his room. Vaughn's laughter echoed throughout the small living room before he swung the door shut behind him, flopped onto his bed, and covered his face. _Alright... This was... a day._ Opening his eyes again, he noticed for the first time that he had received an email; a message from John just a few hours ago. Rhys thought about ignoring it, but quickly gave into temptation and opened it.

_Hey, kitten. Today was waaaaay better than I thought. Some idiot got fired and an absolute peach thing took his place. ;)_

Rhys rolled his eyes at John's self-centered nature; irksome and endearing as always. _John’s lucky he’s hotter than The Dust down on Pandora._

_Yeah, well, I had a pretty rough day.. Kind of saw some people die. It… It definitely wasn't okay. But I made dinner for my friend and I, and it was actually edible for once, so that’s good?_

Almost immediately, he saw John typing. _Is this guy ever_ **_not_ ** _on his echo?_

_People die all the time! It’s what they do. You just gotta see it up close and personal a few times.. Trust me, you’ll get used to it. ;)_

Rhys felt his skin crawl at the idea. Watching someone die will never be normal. It’s the opposite of normal.

 _I don’t think so.. Maybe._ Rhys took a short pause before adding, _Hey, I really need to get some sleep. I start annoyingly early tomorrow._

_Ok, then. Get to sleep. Don’t want to disappoint the big boss on your first day._

_Oh, yeah, that’d be just a great way to start._

_Night._

Rhys closed the messenger, his eyes following suit moments later. His bed was so comfortable and plush; he had the feeling it wouldn't be comfortable enough to compensate for his less than usual eight hours of sleep, though.

Rhys unhappily replayed the conversation in his head. He didn’t want to answer the messages right as they came in, it made him look desperate, and he felt even worse about it after knowing John had already seen one of his biggest insecurities. Actually, thinking about it again, he needed to figure out which picture John had seen him in with cybernetics.

One selfie of himself smiling awkwardly, with his head angled away from the camera; it showed his heterochromatic eyes, but no port. Another picture of him, but in swim trunks by the pool, and hiding his right arm; a pair of thick rimmed sunglasses covered his port. He flicked through the rest of his pictures, inspecting each one carefully for any giveaways.

There were only five on his profile. Not one showed his cybernetics.

 

\--**--

 

“Vaughn?” Rhys' voice was trembling from beyond the door. Vaughn grumbled something under his breath; he had just started to fall asleep.

“Rhys, it's the middle of the night.. Can it wait until tomorrow?” Vaughn sat up, fumbling for his glasses.

“I... yeah. It can wait,” Rhys replied.

There it is: The voice that melted him like butter. It was dejected, so hurt, and... maybe scared? He couldn’t tell if Rhys was actually okay or not, so he shoved off his covers as he heard Rhys padding away from the door.

“No, wait, bro. It’s fine. What's up?” he asked, pushing the door halfway open. Vaughn stifled a yawn, and leaned against the doorframe.

Rhys turned around with his eyes wide, and arms wrapped tightly around himself. “...Do you remember John? The guy from that dating site I told you about?”

Vaughn struggled for a moment through his grogginess. “Yeah?” He opened the door fully. Rhys appeared closed off and taut, almost like he’d looked earlier in the day after meeting Handsome Jack. Though, thankfully, not _quite_ as bad. “What's going on?”

“He noticed when I switched to my ECHOeye in the middle of our conversation... the other day.” Rhys continued on hurriedly, like the words couldn’t come out fast enough, “You know what I mean, how I just let things slide because it's harder to type with the eye and it just ends up a mess, but it’s readable enough, and--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Breathe, bro. It's fine,” Vaughn walked toward Rhys, looking to his taller friend with concern in his eyes. “Just take a deep breath, and relax.”

Rhys swallowed back an objection, and nodded. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brows, trying to concentrate his thoughts. His chest fluttered for a moment before shakily deflating. “John said, 'Work on your grammar when you're using different crap to type.' He even mentioned my arm. I don't have any pictures of my arm on my account, Vaughn, or my port, or anything cybernetic.”

Vaughn hesitated before offering, “You're not the only guy with those implants, you know? I've seen loads of people with cybernetics around Helios, and I've even seen them using their arm to send a message! ...Maybe. One time.”

“You know there aren’t. Besides, I'm the only person on this space station with an ECHOeye.” Rhys held himself just slightly tighter and sighed. “Look, I’m just middle management level data miner, Vaughn. There's no way he knows about my eye.”

Vaughn could see the beginnings of another panic attack on the horizon, moving quickly to avert the crisis. “Rhys...” he broke his friend from his thoughts. Vaughn patted Rhys’ shoulder, trying to be sympathetic. When Rhys shook his head without a word, Vaughn could see that his words weren't having the desired effect. “People know about you. You're... _Well,_ if people didn't know you before, they will after today.”

Rhys pursed his lips.. None of this was helping, Vaughn just wasn’t getting it.

“He knew about my promotion.”

Vaughn scrambled mentally for an appropriate response. “You're probably the talk of Helios, Rhys! Think about it, _Jack’s new personal assistant,_ It's going to be fine, I promise.”

Rhys rolled his shoulders to dissipate his nerves somewhat. “Alright. Uhm, so, this is probably really weird, and you can totally say no, but--” He avoided Vaughn's eyes, feeling a bit awkward.

“Bro. I got you. This accountant isn't just good for math!” Vaughn spread his arms out wide, “Come get your cuddle on.” He yawned tiredly, smiling warmly to his taller friend.

Rhys stepped inside, looking more comfortable already. His pajamas, patterned with colorful socks (because wearing actual designer socks just isn’t enough), clashed against the blue, no-nonsense bedding that Vaughn preferred.

Vaughn slipped under the covers, pushing one of his many pillows over to Rhys. “Get some sleep, bro. It's late, and you’re getting up way early.”

Rhys nodded, holding the pillow tightly as he lay down, kicking his way under the blankets and turning over. Before he could complain, Vaughn scooched in behind him. Vaughn was shorter, but still broad enough for his presence to be comfortable.

Vaughn tried to calm him down, but Rhys was still noticeably shaken from his revelation. “It’s going to be fine, bro. Don’t worry.” Rhys buried into Vaughn’s hold at that, while Vaughn tightened his arms around him. He looped an arm around Rhys' waist, lightly strengthening his hold.

Rhys allowed himself to drift closer to sleep. “Hey, Vaughn...? Thanks.”

Vaughn nuzzled into Rhys’ shoulder, smiling against soft sheets, “Anytime, bro.”

 

\--**--

 

Rhys stood outside of Jack’s office at precisely 4 A.M. He was half an hour early, nervous, exhausted, and _ready_ . His alarm had gone off for barely two seconds before he was jumping out of bed in the morning, startling Vaughn awake. It was a complete blur, his still-slightly-damp hair an obvious sign of his rush to leave the apartment. He inhaled a deep breath. _Showtime._

The game plan? He walks in, and introduces himself to the secretary. He learns his morning duties _before_ Jack gets there, and has his bases covered before the man can say, _“Damn, Rhys. You are seriously the best assistant ever!”_ Deal. Sealed. He straightened up, making sure his tie was on correctly, and pushed through the door.

A blond woman sat at the desk beyond the double doors, typing intently. She didn’t acknowledge Rhys, but held up a pointed finger as he took a small breath to speak.

“Rhys. You’re early,” she chanced a glance at Rhys, who nervously swallowed that breath, before returning her eyes to the screen. “I recommend you showing up _on-time_ from now on. As you may or may not have noticed, Handsome Jack doesn’t like employees who choose not to follow directions. Or, he may assume that you enjoy giving him ample time to think of new, _more interesting_ tasks for the morning.”

Rhys couldn’t speak. He’d stood in the front office for less than a minute, and had already made his first mistake. Rather than risk further embarrassment, he waited for the secretary to finish.

“The first thing is coffee. I don’t care what day it is, the emergency, who’s been shot-- You get him his coffee. The pot is over there,” she gestured toward a cabinet set into the wall, near the doors leading into Handsome Jack’s office. “He wants it blacker than tar, with a taste like heaven. There’s a ‘Hero of Pandora’ mug with his face on it by the sugar; fill it three-quarters of the way full. Add a half teaspoon sugar, one-half teaspoon cinnamon, one-half tablespoon heavy whipping cream, one-and-a-half ounces of his favorite whiskey, and half an ounce of chocolate liqueur. Stir it until it’s smooth and set it on his desk-- There’ll be a worn circle from his mug on the cedar, it should be obvious.”

If Rhys was nervous before, he was terrified now. “I-- Uhm. Can you repeat that?”

Meg raised a perfectly trimmed brow, turning to look at him with an unimpressed expression. “I know you have an ECHOeye, and from the way it's glowing, you turned it on twenty seconds ago to record this conversation.”

Rhys flushed. Was... that a bad thing? He powered it down. He was so used to using his tech’s various functions that it had become second nature to use them any time he felt overwhelmed.

“I’ll repeat myself. Turn your eye back on,” she said. Rhys blinked, doing as she said. “Now: Coffee bags are in the cupboard; remember, it needs to be _strong_. Use the cup with his face on it. Heavy cream is in the mini-fridge below the sink, and you recorded the rest, didn't you?” Rhys nodded slowly. “Perfect! Get to it.” Rhys watched as her warm smile faded and she diligently returned to working at her echo screen.

Rhys started, immediately rushing to the given task. He carefully ground the beans, not wanting to make them too coarse or too fine; they were exotic, from a planet he’d never heard of, and smelled like a mixture of an earthy spice and chocolate. He hesitated, not wanting to add _too_ much, but figured it might not matter after stirring in the precise amount of sugar and cream Jack wanted.

It was a well-stocked pantry for being so neatly tucked away. There was a sink, along with some snacks in the cupboards. A mug with the words “Hero of Pandora” written across the front caught his attention as he glanced through the shelves and noted with his eye which snacks the man liked best. It was surprisingly standard; pretzels, popcorn... even some finger sandwiches in the mini-fridge. By the time Rhys had found the various ingredients on his list, the coffee finished brewing.

He poured some into the mug, filing it exactly three-quarters of the way up. Taking extra care to measure the **exact** amounts of sugar, spices and alcohol _-Thank you, thank you, thank you, ECHOeye pleasedonteverleaveme-_ he gingerly picked up the mug. His hand was shaking, but he took a moment to calm himself down. He did it right. He knows so. It was just like the secretary said.

“Is there a.. security measure I should know about?” he asked, looking at the massive glass doors in front of him. They were frosted white, with sharp, solid letters boldly spelling out _Hyperion_ , and, clearly below, _Handsome Jack_. True to form, they were equal in size; no greater existed when it came to Handsome Jack. He was, and is, the backbone of Hyperion.

“Not one you need to worry about. Your security credentials were upgraded yesterday afternoon. If they hadn’t been, you would know.” _How comforting._ Rhys glanced around the spacious room, immediately scanning for security cameras and the like.

A few lit up on the overlay in obvious places: the faux plant by Meg, above the office doors, scattered in corners, etcetera. Though, just to the right of the office doors, a panel that Rhys wouldn’t have seen if it weren’t for his ECHO eye blended in seamlessly with the wall. It had to be some kind of lockdown-safeguard for Jack and, judging by the gunpowder lining its edges, had seen its fair share of action.

Rhys turned his gaze to the ceiling. It was clean and smooth, an unassuming yellow bordered by deep red. While scanning, however, he could see a few panels there, as well. Small traces of Eridium lingered-- a sign of slag based weapons hidden from plain sight. Rhys shuddered; slag damage was a nasty, painful way to die. _Fitting,_ he thought.

“Thank you,” he said, finally turning back to Meg. Her eyes were slightly narrowed, lips pursed together.

“I recommend you don’t do that in his presence. He gets... aggressive when he feels his security has holes.” She held eye contact for a beat too long, allowing the weight of her message sink in before returning to work.

Rhys swallowed. Right. _No scanning._ He took a moment to add a do-not-scan flag for Handsome Jack's office, setting it neatly into the coding along with his friends' names; it was only polite. After adding Jack's office to the list, he wouldn’t be able to use the scan feature without manually removing the entry. It came in handy when he wanted to ensure that there were no accidental or inappropriate scans in certain situations.

He walked up to the imposing doors, treading heavily. He heard the sharp _tak!_ of his shoes click smartly against the marble floor; it made him feel important. He pulled back his shoulders and held his head high. A fleeting thought entered his mind, _Is this why people wear heels-?To feel powerful? Impressive?_

The doors automatically opened, rotating on hidden hinges to present Jack’s office. It was extensively large, and stretched wide in every direction. And empty. The room felt... cold. Not to the touch, but in its void of warmth, and tangible absence of emotion. There were no personal touches adorning the room, apart from a small picture frame set atop the large desk at the front of his attention. He glanced at the time: 4:26 A.M. Perfect.

The walk to Jack’s desk felt much longer than it actually had been, mainly because of the imposing air to the empty room. He glanced over the desk and found a small ring, just as Meg described, forming a slight discoloration on the fine wood. Rhys leaned over the desk and set the coffee down precisely, careful not to spill a drop.

The desk was clean, apart from a few pens carelessly scattered across the top. He felt an itch to clean it, but stopped himself. Maybe Jack wanted it that way, annoying as it was. Rhys fidgeted, finally raising his gaze to the immense windows behind Jack's desk.

He lost his breath at the beauty of Elpis. It was an entire moon, and yet... right there in front of him, close enough to touch. He could see the glowing, orange crack, threatening to break into large chasms over the planet's dark blue surface; the purple glow emanating around it reminiscent of Eridium. He knew little of Elpis, mostly due to the classified nature of Hyperion's interest in it. Rhys didn’t pry into its encrypted files, just skimming the surface, but knew that it was home to a Vault and, by extension, mountains of Eridium. It was likely another mining operation.

“Enjoying the view?” Jack drawled from behind Rhys. Rhys started, spinning around to face Jack with a guilty expression.

“Yes, sir,” he agreed easily; there was no need to lie about that. “Your coffee's ready, on your desk.” He schooled himself into not appearing completely intimidated. He was, of course, he’d be stupid not to be, but Jack had to be tired of dealing with boot-lickers and sycophants all day. So, hard as it was, Rhys made himself seem the personal assistant who wasn't perpetually terrified. Except when Jack gave him reason to be.

Jack snorted, amused, and uncrossed his arms to stalk leisurely around his chair, sitting larger-than-life in his place at the top. He sighed, his entire posture relaxing just the smallest amount. Rhys quirked his head in curiosity; that was an over-the-top reaction to sitting down... right? He wanted to scan Jack, there was definitely more to this than Rhys could normally see, but he held back.

“Well then, kiddo, let's see how this coffee tastes and decide if you’re going to last more than three minutes,” he said with a devilish wink. Jack grabbed his mug, raising it to his lips. His face gave nothing away as he took a sip, his features expressionless and perfectly neutral.. And another sip. He paused, chancing a critical glance at the drink, and nodded decisively before gulping down a significant portion. “Could be worse.”

Rhys wasn't sure if that was a backhanded compliment ( _Jack-handed compliment?_ ), or vague acceptance of his mediocrity. Jack shrugged, leaning back in his chair, propping an ankle on his knee. He steepled his fingers, tip to tip, and gave Rhys a subtle smirk. “I'll give you a hint, cupcake. It means you live another day.”

Rhys exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and smiled brightly. Good! Not dead. _Yet_. The relief was palpable, and Jack scoffed in amusement again. ...Maybe Rhys looked like more of a terrified puppy than he originally thought. He was never good at hiding his emotions, as much as he liked to think otherwise.

“Don't get used to it, princess. I don't use kid gloves on my PAs.” Jack then abruptly announced, clapping his hands together and gracing Rhys with the smallest, deceptively charming smile, “Now... Let's get this show on the road!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Also, Hyperion-Issued is the one who came up with the glorious coffee recipe! Mine was way worse, so it's a massive improvement.


	5. Chapter 5

“Yes, sir!” Rhys nodded enthusiastically. _This is it._ He’ll finally be a part of the action; maybe he’d even earn Jack’s trust well enough to be assigned more complex tasks than coffee duty. Hopefully. That might... take some time, actually. Jack wasn’t known for his trusting nature, after all.

Jack deliberately searched his desk, pulling out a haphazard stack of papers that had been messily forced into a state of disarray. Thankfully, Rhys had kept his attention focused on Jack, and didn’t startle when the papers were slammed down on the desk.

“Organize these. I don’t care how, just.. Just do it.”

Rhys gave a slight frown at that, and Jack lost no time in picking up on it. “Something wrong? Did you think I’d forget the training wheels, and leave you running Hyperion all by yourself on Day One- _little man?_ ” Jack leaned forward in his chair, his voice dropping dangerously low as he spoke.

“No! --Uh, no, Handsome Jack. Sir. This is just...” Rhys paused, noticing Jack’s quirked eyebrow, “I’m on it.” Jack kept his hand pressed firmly on the huge stack, forcing Rhys to lock eyes with him before releasing them. Jack sat back in his chair, and Rhys heard a soft, nearly inaudible sigh escaping his lips. Rhys wished his ECHOeye’s scan wasn’t so obvious-- not that it mattered after setting the office under his do-not-scan flag, but still.

Rhys picked up his papers, stacking them neatly together and taking a look around the room. A small desk was on the left side of the office, facing Jack’s own work station; it was clearly meant for the next lucky person _(victim_ ) to receive Handsome Jack’s full attention. Jack’s desk had a small set of stairs leading up to it on either side of a slight platform. Meanwhile, the PA desk rested a single step below on its own platform just below Jack’s. Rhys nodded to himself after noticing Jack’s humming, watching his eyes fall shut in relaxation. _...I really need an executive’s chair._

The desk was simple. The ECHOscreen display was positioned on the right side, so as not to block Jack’s view of his PA. All he had to do was glance to his right, and Rhys would be in his direct line of sight _ohgodeveryday_ . Strangely, the keyboard was slightly dusty. Rhys assumed it’s possible that the old PA just never found much use for it; he filed that away on his PA notelist. “ _Robo-man” doesn’t sound so crazy now, huh, Yvette? I’ll never forget her preference for curly fries again._ He checked the drawers under the left side, only to find a few basic office supplies. Tucked away in the bottom drawer, he found an unassuming, older-model ECHO device.

Rhys picked it up, looking it over. It wasn’t _that_ old, maybe just a year or two; it could have easily been the old PA’s personal device. He powered it on, filling the translucent, blue screen with apps. It did seem to be personal, but, although Rhys’ curiosity still burned, he powered it off and set it aside. He’d look into it later. Right now, it was best not to make Jack wait for him to finish sorting the files.

Rhys flipped through the mess quickly, finding that each page’s contents were wildly different from the last; a few on weapons schematics, one on cybernetics, and a few hand-drawn designs, possibly from Jack himself. Rhys couldn’t help the brief look of surprise that crossed his face at the model of an alarm clock playing the tune of a strangled Harold Tassiter in the morning. _Thaaat is just.. So inappropriate._

Each of them were singular pieces of various projects, and not one had been created within the last six months. These projects had either eventually seen their way into production, were moved to R&D, or were abandoned completely. Rhys frowned, attempting to keep his expression neutral as he regarded the stacks of junk. Doubting Jack was out of the question, but Rhys could recognize busywork when he saw it. Fine. If this is how Jack wanted to play, he would **do** that damn filing, and he would do it to the best of his ability **_no matter how ultimately pointless._** _If you’re gonna do something, you do it right. ...Right?_

Rhys set to work. He manually approved the use of his eye to scan the papers, and only the papers, learning more about them and the status of their development. He was grateful for the new security clearance on his company ID; he could actually look into and take notes on the projects that he had been previously denied access.

Organizing them by date was useless- by form or function were lost causes as well due to some overlaps in use (the cybernetic arm, for example, had a turbo laser inside). Finally nearing the end of his patience, Rhys took Jack’s suggestion of filing them whichever way his heart desired.

Some served his purpose well, nearly perfectly square in shape, while others had been torn to pieces or full of odd holes. _Oh, this one has bullet holes AND blood stains. That’s what we in the biz’ like to call_ **_a mug shot_ ** _… Nevermind._ Rhys set it gingerly aside in the “Do Not Use” pile. With interest waning quickly, but the job at hand done - _and done well_ \- he set the piles neatly against each other to prevent unintentional shuffling, and looked to Jack’s desk.

“Sir?” he asked, not wanting to interrupt the man’s nap.

Jack opened his eyes, looking as though he weren’t just entranced in some weird, mental pleasure palace or something. _Okay. Maybe not napping._ “I finished organizing your company files.”

Jack yawned, cracking his shoulders, and rolled himself closer to his desk. He motioned, patting his desk with the palm of his hand for Rhys to bring the three stacks of paper over. “Alright. How’re they sorted, kitten?” Jack turned over a few pages, leafing through while lazily trying to find a clear pattern.

“By their capacity to be folded into paper airplanes.”

Jack paused. “What?” ... _This idiot's serious. Does he think I won't kill him? Because I’ll definitely-_

“By their--”

“I heard you. You think I’m deaf, princess?” He glanced at the papers more closely now. He could see the method behind the madness. The leftmost pile consisted of the flattest, most square paper in appearance, whereas the middle pile had slightly crumpled papers, and ones which had been stained at some point; finally, the pile farthest to the right contained severely torn, or otherwise useless sheets for making structurally sound planes. “Why.”

“Some of these designs have been released in their finished forms, like this repeater pistol,” Rhys lifted a paper from the “Good” pile, “ _The Ass-Kicker. It_ was released a month ago under the name _The Ass-Licker_ , with the only other changes being a +10% to fire rate at the cost of -5% to accuracy. The compromise seemed understandable for its boast of speed over precision.” Rhys reached for a paper in the next pile over, “A rocket launcher marked useless in R &D five months ago when its missile exploded in the barrel. Why they thought inner score lines would work on a rocket launcher, we may never know, because you airlocked the entire..” Rhys changed his tone immediately upon seeing Jack’s hands grip the chair’s armrests tighter, ever so slightly. “--However, the score lines _were_ used on this sniper rifle,” he pulled out another blueprint from the pile, flattening it down on the desk, “which then released as a _pret-ty_ good success three months ago.”

Rhys felt confident in his next words, even if he might later regret informing Jack that he knew the work was pointless. “However, none of these designs are useful today, sir. At least… Not in any real way. Paper airplanes would at least find their own purpose around Helios.” Meg’s warning about giving Jack extra free time wasn’t lost on Rhys either, but the man _did_ tell him to arrange the papers however he wanted, and sorting them this way took probably as much time as sorting them into any other, more standard categories. _Probably._

Jack regarded the papers for a moment longer, returning his attention to Rhys and speaking with near sibilance in his voice, “ _And how do you know what happened to these designs?_ ”

Rhys paused, regaining his resolve, “...I accessed the files on R&D’s database, along with our periodic press releases for new weapons before comparing them with information given by the blueprints you gave me.” Rhys confidently tapped a corner of one of the blueprints, where the name _Handsome Jack_ had been scratched out. “The names have been redacted from most of these, should any of the designs become leaked... or fail.” Rhys added the last part more seriously, not wanting to show any disrespect in his flippant explanation.

Jack steepled his fingers, resting his elbows on the table.

 

\--**--

 

“Uh-huh…” he noticed Rhys’ eyes tempt to light at expected praise _._ Jack couldn’t _wait_ to snuff it out. “I bet you think you’re reaaally something special. Don’t’cha? -- _Rhysie._ "

_Oh, shit. Ohshitohshitohshit._ Rhys’ eyes froze; he knows that tone. He suddenly came to a loss for words, taken aback by Jack’s sudden change in demeanor-- he looked predatory, like a cat ready to catch its canary. “I... did what you asked me to, sir. I organized them.” He dusted the crevices in the metal over his right arm while subconsciously taking a few slow, careful steps backward. Rhys’ fidgeting brought Jack’s attention to the eyesore of his cybernetics.

“Ugh, why are you wearing that?” Jack’s expression changed instantaneously, as if he had completely forgotten his thought from a moment ago, while he wrinkled his nose in annoyance at Rhys’ arm. The kid’s cybernetics were ancient tech at this point, easily two years old, and looked like they had been barely serviced during that time. It was a pile of scrap all mashed together with what tech it _did_ have... _There’s no way this twiggy_ peon _knows how to put together a working cybernetic arm. Doesn’t matter how much it sucks._

Rhys’ eyes dropped to the ground, his flesh hand falling to his side like he couldn’t distance himself enough from the object of Jack’s dissatisfaction, which was currently attached to the better part of his body. “Mr. Handsome Jack- sir? I don’t have a right arm.”

Jack waved away his words, leaning forward to grab him by the wrist, looking over the wires connecting the metal with a critical eye. “I meant, _why is it so old_ , kiddo? It looks like you hired a skag to make it for you, and had its mother design it.”

Leaning awkwardly over Jack’s desk, Rhys tried to keep his balance. He was tall, but the desk was larger than average, and left him in a painful position with his hips forced against the wood. “Uhm…” _Maybe if I un-attach the arm fast enough I can make it to the-_

“Shut up.”

“I would really prefer if you didn’t--” Before Rhys could form his objection, Jack found a switch near the arm’s wrist and pressed it, causing it to go entirely limp. The metal landed on the desk with a heavy _thud_ , and Rhys made a disconcerted sound at the loss of control.

“Hey-heeey, Rhys! Don’t get too excited now. What? Am I _pressing your buttons?_ ” Jack waggled his eyebrows before returning to the wires. “Don’t make me repeat myself, pumpkin. Less of the talky-talky, more of the staying- stay... just stay still.” Jack stood to get a better look through the main cabling. Keeping Rhys in his peripheral, he took his first opportunity to slip in a small tracker and skimmer against the cable; just deep enough into Rhys’ cybernetics to go by unnoticed. Jack was swift, and felt comfortable in thinking that Rhys must have missed it. He lifted the arm back up, making a show of its weight like it had caught his attention.

**_“Damn_ ** , this arm is friggin’ dense! _” That’s what he gets for using outdated tech; he should know better..._ Rhys probably felt off-kilter most of the time; there was no way he could be so awkward just standing around without it. The metal was probably near to thirty pounds-- definitely heavier than his left arm. “Alright. Survive a month with me, I’ll buy you a new one.” He flicked the switch back on, letting the limb power itself on before letting go and flashing an almost genuine smile.

 

\--**--

 

Rhys took his arm back uncomfortably, rubbing at it. It didn’t hurt, but the motion was a calming habit. He didn’t have any true sense of touch, so now that he had it back, he went just by the feeling of the arm, touching various pieces of tech resting against each other. Jack didn’t seem the type to break things unless he meant to, so he must have been interested in the age of Rhys’ tech alone.

“In the meantime,” Jack continued as he sat down, rummaging through his drawers and pulling out yet _another_ stack of papers, “I’ve got something new for you! _This_ is everything I need to get done around here to keep this ship sailing. You’re in charge now. Don’t fuck it up.”

Rhys immediately powered up his ECHOeye to take notes as Jack spoke, filling it in as quickly as possible.

“Occasional check-ups on the branches around Helios, weekly group meetings with department heads, monthly individual chats to keep ‘em motivated, and quarterly sessions to go over results from our bottom line. I’ve got a few spots marked _Do Not Schedule_. Simple; don’t expect me to show up to anything you put in there.”

Jack flipped one of his papers over. “Here are the weekly time-sheets for overviews with R&D for weapons research, another for shields, and one for grenade mods. Slip in a few projects for me to look over...” Jack waved his hands around the air as he spoke, tossing his ideas around the room, expecting Rhys to scramble after them, “I don’t care when, just so I can look them over when I got time; these coding jackholes like to get sloppy when no one’s watching.” Jack turned to face Rhys again, “ I have lunch for an hour every day from twelve to one. I get here at 4:45 every morning- don’t schedule anything before 6. I leave whenever I’m bored. Don’t set anything after three, either, unless it’s urgent. Then just ask me what to do.”

Jack paused, tracing his finger down the many, many columns _-Why are there so many columns?-_ of dates and times. “Oh. Right.” He turned to Rhys, “You get here at 4:30 A.M. to make the coffee, and lay out the daily schedule on my ECHO. You follow me everywhere, you never stop taking notes-- just like that.” Jack’s smile then gained company with a wink. The faint glow of Rhys’ cybernetic eye projected the barest hint of a blue light over the president’s features.

Rhys flushed red, knowing exactly what the man meant by that wink, but still-- Handsome Jack had no right to be so _…  charming._ This was much better than the time Jack spat on him in passing. Rhys _thrived_ on the newfound attention from his boss.

Jack smirked, amused. “You get paid through lunch because, sweetheart, you’re not gonna stop working ‘til you’re dead… or worse. ,” he paused to take in Rhys’ shocked expression, a genuine grin now growing across his face. “But anyway,I take care of lunch for you, like the Handsome Hero I am. Call it a perk of the job.”

Rhys felt his blush deepen further at that, his face growing hot. He didn’t know where to look; should he look at his papers? The desk? _Did Jack just lick his li-_

“You good, or did the blood rush south too quick from your head to catch up?”

If Rhys could only see himself, he’s sure he would look a wreck. His cheeks were a pretty shade of scarlet, and his general unbalanced nature did nothing for his presently unsure footing. Jack started him on busywork, but now this? Dropping his entire schedule on him? What-- _This doesn’t make sense._ Though, questioning Jack’s motives was enough to get you airlocked... Fired. _Enough to get you fired._

“Did I... get a pay raise?” he finally managed, trying to sound more altogether than he was in this state.

“Duh. What were you making before, $15 an hour? You’re on salary now. Hours don’t matter, I just need results. Your raise is something like…” Jack scratched at his chin, the clasp making a soft noise. “300? No, no.. 400%? Something like that. It’s- uh, it’s a lot. So, no more coming in here dressed like _that_ .” Jack shook his head in a combination of disgust and curiosity, “Seriously, where did you even _get_ those pants? Just so I can kill the guy who made ‘em.”

Rhys reeled at the numbers his implants helpfully calculated for him. He wouldn’t need to share an apartment with Vaughn anymore. He’d be able to get a better one, a _way_ better one- and bigger, too; he wouldn’t seem so freakishly tall with higher ceilings. And a bed! A giant one he could stretch out in without his feet falling over the edge. The look on Vasquez’ face when he sees the new Rhys is going to be priceless.

“New clothes,” Rhys agreed easily. “Not a problem, Handsome Jack, sir.”

“Drop the ‘sir’ shit. Call me Jack. Not because we’re gettin’ chummy. God, no... Can you _imagine?_ Oohh-ho, man, that’d be just... No, no, use my name because it’s my name, and it saves me time not waiting for a bootlicker who’s more or less my shadow now to address me as his superior.”

Rhys nodded. “Yes, s-- Jack.” He paused, looking the papers over, hard as it was with them mixed in with each other, upside-down, and facing backward from his viewpoint. Jack gruffly flipped them around, pushing them into Rhys’ hands.

“I don’t expect you to be able to get this perfect on the Day Numero Uno, but don’t screw it up too much.” Jack paused, contemplating his next words carefully. “Go ahead and meet with the department heads today, find out what times are most convenient for--for- _HAAAA-Ha ha!_ ” Jack suddenly burst into laughter, startling Rhys and causing him to take a cautious step backward. “ _Sorrysorrysorry._ Just couldn’t keep a straight face on that one- My schedule’s, hah, my schedule’s obviously the most important. Just get in there and pick a time, tiger. Get it done today.”

Rhys nodded, unsure if he could still trust his voice. That was... a lot. A lot of organizing, a lot rules, a lot of _-Oh,_ _I can.. Use his first name, now? I can… call him Jack? That’s- that’s a thing?-_ planning the next day... the next week, next month... next _quarter?_

Jack continued, “There’s probably an ECHO in the desk. Go get it.”

Rhys turned around, remembering the ECHO tablet he’d found earlier that morning. The old one. The PA grabbed it from the drawer and brought it to him, holding it out with anticipation to… _Jack._

Jack took a look at it, scowling. “No wonder my schedule was shit. This thing is older than I am.” He snatched it, casually snapping it in half before unceremoniously throwing it to the ground. “Not using _that_. Okay, new first job. Get an ECHO. Put it on my account and get the nicest one you can find, because it’s gonna be attached to your hip from here on out. No skimping on price- I can tell, you look like a sale rack kinda guy. Anyway, when you’re finished with that, transfer all the information I gave you onto the new ECHO. Here’s a port.”

Jack tapped the desk, a capacitive button invisible on the surface. Rhys wondered how many buttons were hidden in the wood, covering up different secrets known only to Handsome Jack. True to his word, Jack pulled out a small cable with a dual-sided, standard ECHO port. “Connect your eye to the tablet, and the tablet to Hyperion network. That’s **it**. I don’t think I need to explain what punishment there is for disobeying the rules. Do I, cupcake?” Jack pointedly hovered his hand over the holster on his thigh while waiting for Rhys to acknowledge the threat. Jack was sitting down, but Rhys knew what Jack meant regardless of missing the literal threat.

“Not at all. I’ll keep it encrypted with my algorithm and security.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “ _Your_ security? You’re a data miner slash my new personal bitch. What do you know about code?”

Rhys fidgeted in place uncomfortably. “Uhm. E-enough. Can we test it?”

“Uh- Yeah. Why not? I need a laugh today. Knock yourself out.” Jack’s complacency and unmistakable confidence didn’t shake Rhys. No, he _knew_ his code was good. This was a challenge from Jack to beat the CEO at his own game; Rhys was _determined_ . He would show Jack that he wasn’t just a code monkey; he was a code... Gorilla. Yes. **No.** Whatever. He’s good.

Rhys took the plug from Jack, glancing around. “I… Uhm. I need something to project onto. My security’s internal.” Honestly, he wished he could have just used the now-broken ECHO, but… Y’know.

“In that case…” Jack pulled up another plug from somewhere around his desk _-Did he just reach_ under _the_ chair _...?-_ and held it out. “G’head. Hook it up. Don’t worry, I won’t kill ya -yet. Don’t want to have to repeat myself to another PA already.”

Rhys took the plug, regardless of Jack’s _very_ reassuring words. After just a moment of hesitation, he closed his eyes and... Jacked-in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hyperion-Issued](http://hyperion-issued.tumblr.com) is truly a beta for the ages, no matter how much she tries to downplay herself. Don't let her modesty fool you, she's vicious with the redlining, and it's _glorious._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, my beta is too busy, so this is only self beta'd. She's glorious, but, you know, _work._ Anyhow. Sorry it took so long to get out! I had to rewrite it and it took forever cause I kept feeling like I was writing myself into a corner, but I got past it so it shouldn't be as tough in the future!

Rhys’ eyes fluttered open to take in the dim lighting of Jack’s office. Hours passed before he had woken up after passing out on the giant desk and he pushed himself up, rubbing at the bridge of his nose resentfully. The office lighting was low, though still easy to see through. He glanced around, missing the weight of the cable plugged into his neural port, touching it curiously. Nothing was there. Whatever Jack did, he must have finished.

He stood up slowly, trying to figure out what happened. He checked the time on his eye; just after 5pm. He was out for nearly a full 12 hours. The reflection from Elpis was the main source of lighting, apart from a few devices’ blinking LEDs here and there, and the moon’s glowing crack gave the office a reddish tint. The chair behind the desk was neatly pushed in. Jack, however, was nowhere to be seen.

He had slept just fine the night before, so he wasn’t sure why he had such a large block of missing time, or why Jack hadn’t forced him awake. Unless… going through his subsystems knocked him out. It was a possibility; he’d always been warned about concussions being possibly fatal, and if his neural implant was hacked, he could actually be killed with it. It would be difficult, but a skilled hacker like Jack could easily convince the electronics to heat up and fry his brain from the inside. With the amount of metal and tubing that went into the implants, it would be uncomfortably within the realm of possibility.

But, here he was, unharmed and rather comfortable. It didn’t seem to make sense. He wasn’t sure if he ought to leave ( _ what if Jack came back and I was supposed to stay?! _ ). Taking in the view of the office, the pieces of the old ECHOcom gone from the floor, Jack’s coffee mug no longer on his desk, it seemed that Jack had finished his day. Was Jack’s entire day focused on him? Well, his implants, but with Rhys, they were part and parcel, so it wasn’t surprising when his heart rate picked up at the idea.

Jack had focused on him for hours, probably invading everything Rhys ever saved on the drive in his skull, and possibly changing some of it. Probably. Jack was never a window shopper when he had the ability to simply take what he wanted.

Rhys did a short diagnostic of his ECHO devices.

 

_ Scan initializing… _

_ Scanning… _

_ Scanning… _

_ Anomaly found. _

 

_ >Find file. _

_ Finding... _

_ File name: J4CK_0S.EXE _

_ Open file? Y/Y _

 

Yes or yes? That… wasn’t a proper file prompt. There should be a “no” option there. He shifted away, closing the command line window. If he couldn’t answer it how he wanted, he could simply not open it.

The system was not on board with this idea. The prompt reappeared as a pop-up in Rhys’ vision.

 

_ Open file J4CK_0S.EXE Y/Y? _

_ >N _

_ Invalid answer. _

_ Y/Y? _

_ >No _

_ Invalid answer _

_ Y/Y? _

_ >Cancel _

_ Invalid ans- _

_ >Close _

_ Invali- _

 

“Ugh!” Rhys snarled, though the casual blinking window didn’t vanish. He had no choice. Jack had loaded something into his systems, and unless he wanted to actually go into the coding, he had to accept it.

Rhys gave a quick onceover to the office, left. Meg didn’t acknowledge him immediately so he walked up to her, pausing and waiting for her to speak to him.

“What do you need, Rhys?” she asked, pushing her chair back curiously.

“Where did Jack go?” He ran his hand through his hair self-consciously. He was Jack’s PA, he ought to be in the loop for these things, but here he was, ignorant and feeling stupid.

“I don’t know. He left about a half hour ago, though, muttering to himself. If you haven’t been dismissed, I suggest staying, even if it means you stay all night.” She was sympathetic, but ultimately unhelpful, and Rhys sighed.

“Thank you.”

He turned away, plodding back to the office. He remembered a tucked away couch with a small coffee table nearby, presumably meant for business deals. It made sense; show them the majesty of the view he commanded of Elpis, remind them how short a trip out the airlock would be, and convince them to hand over everything or they die. That’s how Rhys saw it, at least, though he was certain it was never that blatant. Jack didn’t get to power by hamfisting his way up, he got there through cleverness and subtlety.

He flopped on the couch, lying back on the comfortable cushions, though he purposely kept his feet off of the fabric. His shoes were nice, but not set-them-on-Jack’s-personal-couch nice. His head rested on one of the armrests, closing his eyes. The pop up burned into his vision regardless, unmerciful in its brightly colored demands.

He shifted it to the side, pulling up another command line window.

 

_ >sudo close J4CK_0S.EXE _

_ Invalid answer. _

_ Y/Y? _

 

Rhys didn’t know what he expected, but that wasn’t it. He closed that window. Alright. It wasn’t going to be that easy. He could get rid of this. He prepared to dig into the deeper files, but paused. It was clearly made by Jack, if the name was anything to go by, and Jack  _ had _ been the only one with administrator access to his systems apart from himself. If he got rid of it, what’s to say Jack wouldn’t be angry?

Rhys groaned. There really was no winning here.

 

_ >Y _

_ Installing J4CK_0S.EXE _

_ … _

_ … _

_ Heya, kiddo. Your new OS is gonna be sleek. Did you know that you have abilities in this thing that you couldn’t access before? Like an infrared camera. And ultraviolet! Not to mention access to R&D of all levels (part of your job now) and access to weapon information (you had that before, but now, you can scan a gun and know exactly which one it is, how hot it is, how many bullets are left, etc etc). This is a whole new level of ECHO eye, princess. _

_ Ah, speaking of, this took a while to really get going, so I shut you down. Once you’ve finished the installation, it’ll ping me and I’ll give you the new instructions. Don’t try to get rid of it. I rigged it to kill you if you did! That would be hilarious, though, so, I mean, if you want to leave a mess and a really fun image for me to come and see tomorrow, knock yourself out. I’d suggest not, but hey, I’m Handsome Jack and you’re not. I don’t expect brilliance from you! _

_ … _

_ Installation complete. _

_ Rebooting… _

 

His eye went dark and he slumped back into the couch. It didn’t send him unconscious, but it was an uncomfortable feeling of emptiness. He had been integrated with the ECHOnet for long enough that the loss felt physical, along with the sudden blindness in one eye.

His systems powered on after just a few moments, though, and he relaxed. Everything seemed to be working so far. Nothing major was changed, all his files seemed to be in the same filepaths as before, and nothing was significantly larger or smaller, so he supposed that Jack did a lot of snooping but not much meddling. Apart from the new OS, at least.

It seemed similar enough to his previous OS that he felt comfortable with it immediately. He couldn’t deny the niggling doubt in the back of his mind about what Jack saw while rooting around in his head, though. There were pictures of the posters he had bought (okay, so maybe he liked sending them to Vaughn to gush over them. It was just a-- a fanboying thing! Not obsession!), along with personal photographs (most of them candid pictures of happy moments, like the first time Vaughn tried his food-- the expression of horror had been the best thing he’d seen in  _ years _ ), and videos.

The videos were what he was most uncomfortable with, the idea of Jack watching them made him shudder in self disgust. He was a sexual being, okay, and so what if he happened to buy all of the adult films where the actor was made up to look like Jack? There was an entire industry devoted to it, so it wasn’t just him, _Vaughn,_ other people bought it too! Jack was no doubt aware of them, but Rhys could only imagine how the egotistical man felt when he found out that his PA had something of a hard-on for his new boss. He probably preened like the vain man he was.

A pop up appeared in his vision, calling him away from his slightly self deprecating thoughts.

_ Rhys, kiddo, glad to see you did the smart thing! _

Rhys blinked, then hesitantly typed back a response.

_ >If you mean installing your OS that didn’t give me an option to refuse, then yes, I did. _

_ As sassy as before. I like it. _

_ >What did you change, sir? I don’t see anything new apart from the new functions. _

_ Don’t even with that “sir” crap. I did a lot of things, but nothing you need to worry your pretty little head over. Your day is done, go home. _

_ >Oh. Thank you. _

_ Yeah, yeah. Try not to whack it to the photos you have of me, nerd. _

Rhys flushed scarlet, but before he could reply with a no doubt witty rejoinder, Jack exited out of the pop up. Rhys left the office, looking around for a way to contact Jack in return, but found nothing. It only seemed to activate if Jack opened the conversation. It seemed fitting that Jack would make it so he could contact Rhys, but not the other way around. Rhys’ schedule revolved around Jack now, after all, annoying as it was.

  
  


\--**--

  
  


The conversation with Vaughn when he recounted his day was awkward. Vaughn thought it was creepy, and suggested that they leave the planet.

“It isn’t like we don’t have plans for vanishing quickly!” Vaughn pointed at Rhys emphatically with the pizza they ordered when Rhys got home. “Jack made you install a new OS that you don’t know anything about, while you were asleep, no less. And now he can contact you any time he wants? How is that not worse than your obsession with him?”

Rhys scowled, avoiding looking at Vaughn in favor of choosing which slice he wanted. “It isn’t that bad, I’m sure he only did it because he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t steal company files or something.” Now, if only Rhys could  _ believe  _ it, it would be great.

Vaughn rolled his eyes. Rhys didn’t miss it-- it was hard to ignore when they were facing each other, cross legged on their couch with the pizza between them, but he was making a valiant effort. “Ok, fine, bro, maybe it’s kinda weird. But I don’t think that he’s using it just to be creepy. He’s too busy for that. Have I told you about the mess that is his schedule? Because that’s what it is. It’s a mess.”

Snorting, Vaughn grabbed another piece of pizza from under Rhys’ hand, snatching the perfect piece away.

“Rude.”

“You snooze, you lose, bro.” Vaughn took a triumphant bite. “Anyway, though, don’t you need to do that?”

“Well, I kind of did on my way here and while we were waiting for pizza.” Rhys pulled up the schedule on his eye, checking it over once more. “Yeah. I think it’s fine.”

“Whatever you say, bro. Anyhow. As good as this pizza is, I have a meeting tomorrow morning. I hate mornings, so I need to wake up with enough time to trick myself into thinking it’s the afternoon.” Vaughn waved as he ambled to his room, Rhys making a vague noise of acknowledgement, distracted by a pop up in his vision. He half expected it to be Jack, doing something suitably annoying, but it was John instead.

He hadn’t sent John a message all day, or even replied to the previous one, too freaked out. How the hell did John know he had cybernetics when not a single picture of them was on his profile? Rhys had tried to be somewhat common in his pictures, not because he was ashamed of his enhancements, but because he didn’t want somebody interested in them instead of him. He debated ignoring it, but, well, Rhys was a nice person. Maybe he could explain himself.

_ I know you’re busy, cupcake, but too busy for this handsome stud? Impossible. Need a pic to remind you of my assets? ;) _

_ I’m actually kind of shook up, and I don’t know if I want to talk to you.  _ Honest, but also not going to let him ignore the problem. That was good.

_ What? Why? _

_ I don’t have a picture of my cybernetics on my profile, but literally in our first conversation, you mentioned them. How is that not creepy? _

_ Well, kiddo, I knew who you were once you had the spotlight for becoming Jack’s new PA, duh. _

Rhys rolled his shoulders, feeling a crawling sensation on his back as he recognized the lie.

_ That happened the day  _ after  _ we first spoke. _

_ Did it? Oh. _

_ Yeah. So. _

_ I saw you around and thought you were cute. I recognized you on the site, you didn’t change your name, so I didn’t think that you were hiding something. _

_ Coming up with another excuse isn’t helping your case. _

_ Ok, look. It isn’t creepy at all. I’m high up in the hierarchy, I knew who you were, and I looked you up. That’s all. There’s no reason to be scared. _

_ I’m not scared! _ Rhys answered defensively. He walked to the door, making sure it was locked, then headed to his own room. He took the time to lock his own door too, just to make himself feel better.  _ What you did was stalkerish, and making up a lie doesn’t make you sound any better. _

_ Alright, alright. You’ve twisted my arm. How about meeting in person, then? You’ll be so relieved, you’ll fall all over yourself to apologize and suck my dick. _

_ Pervert. _

_ I’m trying here, give me some credit, kitten! _

_ Fine. We’ll meet in person, somewhere  _ **_public_ ** _ of my choosing. _

_ You drive a hard bargain. Let me at least make it up with dinner. _

_ Fine. We’ll go to The Hustle.  _ There’s no way he would agree to that. It was stupidly expensive, and impossible to get a reservation for without paying his weight in eridium and waiting for years.

_ I’ll see you there tomorrow. I’ll wear a brown pair of sneakers. _

Sneakers? To The Hustle?! Rhys may not have the best fashion sense, but that was absurd. He did have to admit, though, that John would be incredibly unique in trashy sneakers. But… how the hell...

_ I’m gonna be impressed if you pull this off. I’ll see you at 6. _

_ At 6, princess. Dress nice. ;] _

Rhys closed the window, laying on his bed. He was going to see who John was. Maybe he’d recognize him. Maybe it was somebody he screwed over on his way up? Either way, Rhys was kind of excited… And kind of terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I'm also doing stuff on tumblr if you're so interested, name is the same ([Rachrar](rachrar.tumblr.com)). I'm always open to prompts, though I may take some time to get to them. I promise I'll never delete one though! I can't wait to hear from you guys!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry for taking so long to write this chapter. I had some really serious writer's block and kept writing myself into a corner after about 500 words. It took forever to finally get past it, but here it is! It's a fun chapter. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Beta credit, as always, goes to [Hyperion-Issued](http://hyperion-issued.tumblr.com/).

Rhys felt heavy as he dressed the next morning. Not from it being 4 A.M. (he was growing accustomed to rising so early), but from nervousness. His life was hectic enough working in such close proximity to Jack; he didn’t need a stalker on top of everything else. Rhys considered deleting his profile on the dating site just to have one less thing to worry about, but decided against it seeing as it was his only way of contacting John before their... _date._

After looking himself over in the mirror one last time, and attempting a winning Hyperion-grin, he noticed dark circles beginning to form beneath his eyes. This was all becoming too much. Rhys silently left the apartment, gently closing the door behind himself so as to not wake his best friend. _Lucky bastard doesn’t have to wake up for another three hours._

Rhys felt much more in control once he arrived at the office. Jack was unpredictable, but Rhys was a fast learner and found some comfort in discovering a small routine in the madness. He knew how to make the man’s coffee, where to set it, and which files to have prepared each day. He smiled to himself as he set the mug of coffee delicately on the CEO’s desk, covering the perfectly worn ring in the cedar at exactly 4:40 A.M. A full five minutes would pass before Jack made his appearance. The coffee would still be close enough to scalding for Jack’s tastes, but cooled enough to just barely pass as drinkable to the average person. _Perfect._

Rhys shuffled over to his desk, sat down and powered on the ECHO device in front of him. He idly searched through his desk, wanting to confirm to himself that it was still empty, but instead discovered a new ECHO tablet staring back up at him in the first drawer he opened.

He turned the small, sleek thing over in his hand, examining it as a blue glow emanated from the screen upon it’s powering up. Nothing too extreme; just very expensive. It was snappy and swift; perfect for Jack’s constant changes in plans, snap questions, and rapid-fire directions. There was even a cable to connect the tablet to his port, which he quickly used to transfer over the itinerary he had prepared onto the device.

He was ready. Rhys took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He felt the muscles in his body finally beginning to relax. He was _ready._

The doors to the office slammed open. Jack walked in through the massive double doors, boots clacking against the ground heavily while his enormous presence filled the room. Rhys had jumped initially, but relaxed knowing that it was just Jack being... _Well, Jack._ The King dropped into his throne-like chair, fussing about momentarily before leaning back and propping his feet up on the desk.

He wore brown, leather boots, with yellow heel covers and steel toe caps, finished with buckles running down the sides. They were immaculate. _Jack must not wear these often._ Rhys frowned. Something seemed off. _Why is he wearing boots? Doesn’t he normally wea--_

“Hey hey hey, princess! Eyes up here!” Jack snapped his fingers, refocusing Rhys’ attention on on the CEO immediately. “Where’s the schedule?”

Rhys leapt to his feet, extending out the device. “Here-- It’s set up for the next week. I wasn’t sure if you actually wanted to attend some of the meetings, so I added flags on those. I’ve color coded them as well. Red flags are on required events, according to your own notes. Yellow are recommended, but aren’t necessary. Green are completely optional, but ought to be done sometime in the future. I just put  them in there because they fit more comfortably.”

Jack seemingly glanced over the schedule. “Yeah, whatever, looks fine to me, cupcake.” He tossed it back over to Rhys, who surprisedly flung his arms forward in an attempt to catch the device as it bounced in and out of his grip, before finally managing to secure it. “Let’s get going.”

Rhys blinked as Jack all but leapt from his chair, boots clattering on the ground and startling the stalky PA. “Let’s get our asses to R&D!” Jack grinned, taking him by the arm and pulling him closer. “I think the stalkers are getting lonely.”

 

\--**--

 

The day went by much too quickly for Jack’s taste. Watching the kid try not to piss himself when a mutated stalker approached him was one of the best things he’d seen all year. Though, the kid proved he had some _cojones_ when he actually touched it... _Some very small, very weak, cojones._ But, Jack had been impressed, even if it only lasted for a second. The stalker had licked Rhys’ hand, and the cyborg princess screeched like a little girl. _And- and not just like any five-year old little girl! Like, like a… really scared, really traumatized little girl! Like if her parents just dropped her off with a rakk hive for a babysitter. Frickin’ hilarious._

Eventually, the work day came to a close. Jack leaned against his desk, half-sitting on the wood and balancing most of his weight back on his hands. He watched as Rhys scuttled away, , muttering something about a date under his breath.   _Right. The date._

Jack had put on his vault hunter boots again, for the first time in years, to avoid letting Rhys in on the secret too early. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Rhys had it all figured it out before Jack had even had his coffee. But he wasn’t sure if he still wanted to go through with it. It started out as joke… Just wanting to pass the time by catfishing the ambitious little code monkey, but now… Well, Rhys wasn’t too bad on the eyes.

Jack rolled his shoulders, considering his options. He needed to think logically about this. It was only five o’clock, so he had a full hour to figure out what to wear on his-

 _Oh, Hell no!_ Handsome friggin’ Jack didn’t think about what to wear. He wore whatever the fuck he wanted, and people dealt with it. No, it wasn’t the clothes tripping him up.

Was it the boots? He _could_ just wear his usual sneakers. As much as he wanted to deny it, he missed the comfortable feeling of his brown “dad” shoes. His boots were killer (and the slight heel had nothing to do with making his ass look good, of course), but they were murder on his feet.

When he arrived at The Hustle, he could waltz up in his sneakers. And Jack did love the stupid look on people’s faces when he would show up to higher-end places in them, knowing if anyone was stupid enough to comment that it would just give him the reason to pull out his pistol. The game would be over so quickly, though, and there was so, so much time left to fuck with Rhys’ pretty little head. No, definitely the boots.

He walked up to one of the many mirrors lining the walls, compulsively adjusting his clothing. Nothing really changed, but the minor modifications soothed him. Though, he spent an inordinate amount of time on his hair.. He wasn’t _nervous_ to meet the little twerp. Jack just... wanted to make sure he put his best foot forward, that’s all.

His ECHO device buzzed in his pocket. He unlocked the screen and checked the notification. _The man of the hour._

_I’m here. There was a table reserved in my name, so I’m there._

Jack glanced at the time; 5:45. _Jeez, kiddo._ Early, much? He didn’t open the message, leaving it  for Rhys to see that it was still _unread_. As he tucked the phone back into his pocket, it hit him, and a dark grin crept over the man’s masked features in the mirror. He knew exactly what to do.

 

\--**--

 

Rhys checked his messages for the twentieth time, in as many minutes. 6 P.M. had come and gone, and nobody showed up. It was pushing 7 P.M. now, and Rhys’ patience was becoming razor thin. He had given the man ample time to show and explain himself, and he hadn’t appeared. _He didn’t even open the message._

Rhys stood, pushing the chair back as a waiter hurried over. “Sir, is there anything I can get you?”

Rhys huffed, though he knew it wasn’t the poor waiter’s fault. “No, thank you. Night just isn’t going as planned, is all.” The waiter nodded slowly, a look of pity forming on his face. Rhys wrinkled his nose, shoving the chair back and heading off. He had only gotten a few steps away when he heard a familiar voice.

“Heyyy, hey now, kiddo, you look like skag shit! What’s got you down?” Jack slung an arm around Rhys’ shoulders. Rhys tensed up, anxious. Why was Jack here? Was he tracking him through that backdoor program?

Rhys sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “I met someone online and we just-- nothing, it isn’t important.” He shrugged out of Jack’s grasp. “I’m going home.”

“What, and miss the main event?” Jack grinned, spinning a chair neatly in place before sitting down. He gestured to the chair opposite him across the table. “Sit down, take a load off. Tell ol’ Jacky what’s eating you,” he winked at Rhys.

Rhys flushed, avoiding Jack’s gaze, but did as he was told and slunk back into the chair. “I met somebody online. We hit it off, sort of.” He fiddled with the fork on the table to keep his hands preoccupied. “He was kind of an ass, honestly, but he was built like a truck. I mean, he-- uh…”

Jack raised his eyebrows, not speaking _(for once)_ , allowing Rhys to continue. That wasn’t what Rhys had been expecting, but the entire night had already turned into a shitshow, so what did it matter?

“Anyway. He was creepy and knew details about me that I never talked about. I confronted him, and after he stopped backtracking, well…” Rhys shook his head. “He said he’d meet me here at 6-- to explain. As you can see,” Rhys spread his hands palms-up to indicate the absence of a brown-sneaker-wearing man. “I got stood up. I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

“Yeah, that sucks.” Jack snatched a breadstick from the basket on the table, ripping a piece of it off like an animal. Rhys was mildly discomfited, but ignored it. Jack had agreed that his circumstances were terrible. That was probably the extent of Jack’s sympathies, but for some reason Rhys actually felt a little bit better.

“You know what, Rhysie?” Jack pointed his breadstick at Rhys, “You’re alright. Little weirded out by all the porn of me floating around in your head, but hey, can’t blame ya. I _am_ the most handsome guy around. Kinda goes with the territory.”

Rhys’ brow furrowed. Was… Was Jack saying what he thought he was saying?

“Anyway. I’ll take one for the team. You keep your pert little ass in that seat, and you’re gonna get treated to something most people would _kill_ for,” he paused, nibbling on the bread thoughtfully. “Nah, they’d massacre for it. Point is, princess, this date is gonna happen. It’s just gonna happen with _me_.”

Rhys stared at Jack blankly, the man’s words processing slowly. A date. With Jack. With... Handsome- _Handsome Jack._ Jack. The Handsome. The guy he has an uncomfortable amount of interest in. That guy.

“Oh,” said Rhys. “OK.”

Jack chuckled, waving in the general direction of a waiter. One immediately appeared at his side, practically materializing out of thin air. Nobody kept Handsome Jack waiting, after all.

“Gimme a steak. Don’t overcook it-- I swear on my grandmother’s grave, if I eat another leather hunk of meat again, I’m shoving it straight up the chef’s ass. _Medium rare._ Potatoes and some random vegetable, I don’t care. Same for the dum-dum over here.” Jack paused, glancing at Rhys. The other man finally came to his senses, quickly closing his mouth which had been hanging open a moment prior. “Unless you’re a vegetarian?”

Rhys shook his head. “Right,” Jack said, “chop-chop.” His eyes never left Rhys’ as the waiter high-tailed it to the kitchen to give the order as fast as possible.

Rhys wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He kept his focus on Jack, but couldn’t meet those heterochromatic eyes for more than a few moments without being overwhelmed by their intensity. Jack wasn’t playing around. This was a real date. This was somehow more frightening than the stalker that had tried eating him earlier, and that’s hard to beat.

“So. Uhm.” Rhys fiddled with his napkin as Jack leaned back in his chair, letting Rhys take the lead. “Why are you at The Hustle?”

Jack shrugged. “Felt like getting a good dinner for once. I normally just grab whatever’s closest and chow down, but I’m pretty sure Meg would have a heart attack if I told her I ate pretzels for dinner again.”

“Again?” Rhys raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, again,” Jack confirmed casually, like eating a snack for dinner was totally normal.

For some reason, though, the admission helped Rhys relax a little. “Is that a habit of yours? Not eating... actual food?”

“Pretty much. This bread, though!” Jack tapped the basket, “It’s friggin’ great. I’m taking all of it.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands, careful to avoid leaning his weight on the clasp. “So, tell me more about this guy, pumpkin.”

Rhys scowled, crossing his arms huffily. “What a tool. It started with a message, and a picture...”

 

\--**--

 

Twenty minutes later, Jack was struggling not to laugh. The kid was so salty! Jack hadn’t really paid attention to the continuity of his made-up story, so it wasn’t surprising that he had slipped up. When it led to Rhys glowering at his food like it had personally offended him, though, there was no way this wasn’t worth it.

“Well, it’s a good thing I came by to save the day!” Jack flashed a winning smile Rhys’ way. Rhys flushed the prettiest pink, all the way down his neck and up to his ears.

“I--I-- yeah. Thanks.” Rhys mumbled, embarrassed. “I mean, I know it isn’t a _date_ date, but I really appreciate the, uhm, food and...”

The air became became deadly silent.Jack’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward a touch. To really emphasize the point, he reached out and grasped Rhys’ hand gently, holding it. Rhys tensed, his arm twitching like he wanted to pull away, but he didn’t. _Holy shit i’m going to die i’m-_

“The fuck do you mean, ‘ _not a_ date _date?’_ ”

“I-- it’s-- well--”

“Out with it, cupcake, I don’t have all day.” Jack squeezed Rhys’ hand, in a way he had hoped was reassuring. Rhys’ wince made him wonder if he had hurt him instead,

“You didn’t plan to take me out. You were just cheering me up. That’s not really… an actual date.” Rhys was quiet, and slipped his hand away from Jack. “Don’t get me wrong, it was great. But you’re-- you’re _Handsome Jack._ I’m your PA, it wouldn’t work.” He gave a crooked smile, trying to put on a cheery façade.

Jack was irritated now. Sure, he didn’t reveal himself as John, or mean for any of this to happen, but, fuck, now he wanted the kid. Tell Jack he couldn’t have something, and he’d do everything til he got it. This was no exception. “It’s a date now! You’re pretty, I’m Handsome, what more do we need?”

Rhys squirmed, his gaze darting anywhere but Jack. He seemed… afraid? “I-- I want to,  but…”

“But?” Jack pressed. There was something Rhys wasn’t saying, and it was starting to really tick him off. “You rejecting me, kitten?”

“No!” Rhys panicked, hands raising as if to ward off a blow. “I mean, yes. But no? I-- I don’t know. I was just looking forward to meeting John tonight. He was sketchy, but… Kind of really hot, too? So… I was expecting something else.” Rhys sighed, standing and pushing his chair back. “Thanks, Jack.”

“What? Where’re you going?” Jack stared up at Rhys, more confused than he had been in a very long time. Yes, but no? The Hell does that mean? Does he have a death wish? _That’s kinda hot..._

Rhys looked at him strangely. “Home? Where I live?” He shrugged on the blazer he’d laid on the back of his chair. As it slipped over his form, Jack couldn’t help but appreciate the kid’s angles and curves. Damn, he really was pretty. It should be illegal.

“But the night was just getting started!” Jack stood as well. “Come on, let’s go to a club, I’ll buy you a drink.”

Rhys shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. I really don’t want to be part of a pity date...”

“Pity? Is that what you thought this was?” Jack stared at Rhys like he’d grown an extra head. How the hell did he get pity out of this? Jack had been great! He hadn’t laughed at Rhys’ stupid annoyances, he’d bought the kid dinner, and even made the kid give a doofy smile that Jack would never admit made him melt a little.

“Yeah?” Rhys stopped adjusting his coat, finally looking as confused as Jack. “Isn’t it? I got stood up, so when you saw that, you just came over to save the day. Be the hero, like always- and you did help! But you aren’t John, Jack. It was coincidence, not a plan.”

“Well, it _was!_ But _now_ it’s a date!” Jack said it like it solved everything. “It’s a date because I say so, and I _know_ you have a thing for me, so why not?”

Rhys hesitated. “Why… don’t we go on a real date then? One that’s planned? For just us?” He seemed anxious, but the attempt at confidence actually made Jack proud. The kid was a nervous wreck, but he sure was trying to look calm.

“You have some serious _huevos_ , kiddo.” Rhys paled slightly, hands tight on the back of the chair. “I like it.”

Rhys blinked. “Oh.”

“‘Oh’ is right.” Jack smirked and pushed his own chair back underneath the table. He was the king of Hyperion, and he could do what he wanted, but he wasn’t a _heathen_ for Chrissake. “I’ll take you out tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

Rhys just nodded mutely, blushing again. Jack headed out, passing by Rhys. He gave Rhys’ ass a resounding slap, making him squeal and stand up straight, embarrassed. Jack simply laughed, “I’ll message you with the details later, Rhysie.” Finger guns and a wink followed before Jack left the restaurant, leaving Rhys staring after him dumbfounded.

Rhys buried his face in his hands, knowing the exchange looked ridiculous to anyone looking. He pulled up the ECHOnet mail interface, and shot Vaughn a quick message.

_Bro, you won’t believe this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know if you enjoyed it and leave a kudo if not a comment. <3 You can find me on tumblr at [Rachrar](http://rachrar.tumblr.com/).


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